A Second Time Around
by FanFicForever
Summary: Jack O'Neill? Jon O'Neill? Who is he and what will he become? Follows Jon O'Neill as he becomes his own person. I've always felt sorry for Jon - he is Jack, and he has to leave everyone and everything he ever knew. How does a person get past that? Jon must become his own person in the world, but what will he become? Rated T for some moderate language for now.
1. Jack? Jon?

**Jack O'Neill? Jon O'Neill? Who is he and what will he become? Follows Jon O'Neill as he becomes his own person. I've always felt sorry for Jon - he is Jack, and he has to leave everyone and everything he ever knew. How does a person get past that? Jon must become his own person in the world, but what will he become?**

**I've played with the timeline just a touch on this to move it to a more modern setting and tweak the time passing between some events. IMO, some seasons should have passed much more quickly than a full year while others would have lasted longer than a year. Jon is created in 2004 and is "aged" to 14. Slightly AU, but only slightly.**

**This is my first story here. As everyone always asks - read and review!**

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**October 3rd, 2004, Cheyenne Mountain, Colorado**

Jack looked up at himself standing just a few feet away. This was freaky. Freaky Friday sort of freaky.

He felt like himself, but he could see the body that he should have standing just a few feet away, and he had spent the last couple days in this 14 year old body. He had finally figured out that he was a clone rather than some …freaky …de-aged alien project.

He really had to find a better word than 'freaky'.

It was starting to sink in that, that as much as he would swear up and down that he really was 'Jack', he really wasn't. He was nothing but a clone with imprinted memories.

It hadn't been until he was standing there with, um, himself in the Asgaard ship, ready to be 'fixed' that it finally hit home. He really wasn't Jack. No matter what he felt and thought. He thought of Teal'c, a wash of warmth for that friend who was closer than a brother. He thought of Daniel, annoying scientist who was still one of his best friends. Sam, his 2IC. He ... cared, no, he loved her.

And with that, Jonathan 'Jack' O'Neill broke.

All fake. He didn't actually love her; his heart was breaking but it was all just fake memories. His team, closer than a family, and everything he felt was just a fake bunch of ideas copy and pasted into his head.

He was nothing. A clone and memories. Standing in front of him was the real O'Neill.

He was tired, so tired. He knew it was his body breaking down, and he considered insisting that the process of dissolution continue, but they, she, obviously didn't want him to die, so he acquiesced. It didn't matter if it was just a fake love implanted in him - he still wasn't going to do anything to hurt her.

He couldn't remember much of the next several days. Maybe it was weeks. He couldn't be bothered to pay attention.

The Asgaard fixed him up. Ya sure youbetcha. Good as new. Bah. Who cared.

Then days of being shuttled around to and from meetings with Air Force officers, more NDA forms than he could have imagined, and numerous lectures and discussions. He was running on autopilot.

Financial arrangements. School attendance. 'Foster care.' He was going to be a teen again. He sure as hell didn't feel like a teen, but that's what he was, so that's what he would be.

That was blankly agreed to, merely nodding in agreement to whatever they said. Then it was time to pick out a name. Several names were generated, and a young lieutenant brought them to him.

"Sean Michael Donovan? What do you think of that one?"

What? The expression on his face must have been enough of a reaction.

"Ok, maybe not Sean. How about Peter Tiberius Brown?"

"What? Tiberius? Where the heck did you get these names?"

Jack could feel a wave of rebellion building inside.

"They're generated based off popularity for your background and age combined with some random selection." The officer, a first lieutenant hardly dry behind her ears if he was any judge, gave a wan smile at the face Jack made. "I agree on some of these. That's why it generates 5 names and you get to pick. No mixing and matching names, though. That can introduce patterns into our fake names. We've got three more here - Daniel Mar..."

"Nope," Jack interrupted her. "Not going with Daniel. In fact, I'm not giving up my name. I'm Jack O'Neill."

The young lady frowned at him and Jack almost laughed. He was forty six year old Colonel and this kid was looking at him like he was a little kid. He shoved down the voice that reminded him that he was just a kid.

"You can't have that name. The Colonel …"

Jack interrupted her. "No, and hell no. I'm keeping my name. You guys can assign whatever you want, but I am keeping my name."

"But Jack O'Neill is already…"

"Oh come on lieutenant! There are dozens if not hundreds of Jonathan J. O'Neills spread across the country. One more isn't going to make a difference. I am not giving up my name."

He wasn't entirely sure why the idea of changing his name was so repugnant to him. He'd spent months undercover going by different names during his black ops days. Maybe this was just the proverbial straw that broke the camel's back, but he wasn't budging on this.

"It's not your name. You are not Ja…"

Jack's fists slammed down on the table and his world went red as he lunged forward from his chair. The lieutenant's eyes widened and she jerked back.

Jack just barely kept himself from leaping across the table. A roaring pounded in his ears and he could see nothing but the woman across from him.

"I. Am. Jack. O'Neill."

The words came out sharp and harsh. The woman flinched at each word.

Jack pulled himself back from that edge. Years of self control kept himself from raging, smashing everything around him, but he couldn't trust himself to speak further.

The lieutenant stood up from her chair and backed toward the door. "I, I'll ... I'll go check with the captain." With that she wrenched the door open and almost ran out.

Jack stood still for a few seconds, getting his breathing under control before plopping back down into his seat.

"Way to go, Jack," he muttered to himself. "Scare some poor lieutenant who's just doing her job."

The burst of emotion had shattered his previous ennui, and he began to think again. The wheels that had been locked up for the last week began to spin as Jack began to fully examine his situation.

Five minutes later a captain entered the room with a condescending smile for the young boy in the room. "So, I hear that you feel like..."

The captain's voice faded off as Jack met his gaze. He was a Colonel and had done more than this pissant could dream of doing. He had faced down beings that could have destroyed the world, and won. He couldn't be a Colonel any more, but he wasn't about to roll over and play dead any more. If he had to be a teen again, he was going to do it on his terms.

The captain unconsciously swallowed at the gaze the fourteen year old boy leveled on him.

Two days later, that O'Neill was sitting across from him in his truck. Or not his truck, but that O'Neill's truck. He was still working on how to even think about this, but it was slowly coming together.

He would be a teen. He was being dropped off at school. He would do sports. He would sleep through classes. He would be fascinated with …whatever it was that teens were fascinated with these days. He could do this.

"So," that Jack said, and then went silent.

He had a moment of sympathy, because that was all he could think to say too.

"I don't think we should keep in touch."

He felt a pain as he heard his older self say it, knowing it was the only way and knowing he wouldn't be seeing Teal'c, or Daniel, or ... . His thoughts shied away from that. That hurt too much. Fake or no. It hurt.

"I agree. It would be just too … "

"Weird," they said together. For a moment their expressions mirrored each other in the shared humor.

He saw the relief on his other face. On the older face. That wasn't him. But it was him. But. He stopped his mind from following that trail again.

He opened the door and stepped out. The laughter and talking of a hundred kids filled his ears, and he gathered himself together, slipping into his new persona. He was a teen. He was fourteen. He was going to school. He was interested in everything that kids were interested in.

A trio of girls walked by and met his eyes before glancing away and giggling. He wasn't sure he could do this, but he had to.

"You're sure about this?"

He glanced around at the kids flooding the area. He noticed the girls looking at him again.

"Yeah. Who hasn't wished to be able to go a second time around and do it better?"

The older man glanced around, easily catching the glances aimed at the younger man. He smirked a little.

"Ya sure, youbetcha. Take care …" that Jack trailed off, feeling awkward at calling the teen by his own name.

A smirk appeared on the younger face. He knew exactly how he, they, er, whatever, were feeling. He felt weird using the name himself. He had gotten at least one thing straightened out in his mind, though.

"Jon. I'm Jon O'Neill."


	2. Done playing school

**I know the episode made it look like Jon was going to enjoy school, but I can't imagine that actually working - I get tired dealing with teens after just a couple hours of chaperoning at events. Trying to participate in their world all day every day?! It would drive Jack, er, Jon mad. He might have thought it would be a great second chance to start with, but I don't think that would have lasted long.**

**Anyway, on to chapter two - Jon goes nuts in school!**

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**December 3rd, 2004, Mountain View School, Colorado**

"_Oh god. I can't take this any more._"

Jon closed his eyes as he rooted through his locker, desperately wishing a goa'uld would attack the school.

Trisha stood close behind him - cheerleader, fifteen years old, and really, _really_ interested in the new boy in school who had been blowing away sports and track since he had arrived.

The urge to show off had been too much for Jon, though if he had known the result he would have joined the debate club.

"So yeah, we're like going to the movies on Friday. Let's go."

Jon wondered what had happened to kids since he had gone to school. Trisha was all over him and they weren't even dating! Last Friday she had let him know her parents were away and she had the house to herself, and if he came over he could stay all night, and it would be just the two of them, and, Jon shuddered.

Before that, she had been pinning him up against the lockers with her hands all over him. She was grabbing him and trying for kisses at every chance. He was popular enough with the girls, though Trisha had staked her claim firmly enough that the others stayed away. That part was fine with him - after a couple tries, he had realized he had NO interest in even pretending to date or flirt with these kids.

Jon knew that almost every other boy in the school would have been jumping at the chance with Trisha. He just couldn't bring himself to be interested in her, much less overcome the skeevy feeling he got every time he thought of …yech. He might have a fourteen year old body, complete with hormones, but his mind was on the top side of forty and he went cold at the thought.

Jon pulled his books for Geometry out and dropped his English in their place, and then straightening them. And then straightened his other books as he worked out an excuse.

"That would be awesome, but I've got to stay at the house on Friday - there's a dinner," he nudged the door shut with his elbow and continued with his story, looking at her with what he hoped was boredom, "with a bunch of family friends coming over. Not something I can duck out of. Sorry!"

She pouted and put her hand on his chest and slid up close to him. "Awww, come on. We can catch a late movie. My folks don't care how late I'm out."

Jon really wondered about her parents.

"Sorry, I really am, but I gotta hit class."

He held her hand long enough for her to let go of his shirt and latch onto his hand. A quick roll of the wrist and he was free, darting down the hallway.

"_Hoorah for black ops - getting me out of sticky spots for twenty years and counting,_" he smirked to himself.

He slid into his seat just as the bell rang. Mr. Greene was a stickler for starting on time. The man started collecting homework, walking up and down the aisles of seats pickin papers out of hands. Jon's was handed in and Mr. Greene gave him a smile with 'Hello Jon' before continuing.

Jon remembered the first time he had been in high school - he had been a pain in the neck to each and every teacher. This time around, though, he couldn't bring himself to make the teachers' lives harder. Instead he stayed quiet most of the time, answered questions when asked, and doodling - bored out of his mind. Homework was usually completed in fifteen minutes during the class, mainly looking for something to do. His excellent grades had impressed the teachers and his non-disruptive behavior had stuck him squarely in their good graces.

He sighed. It was so weird. Jon O'Neil. Model student. He rolled his eyes at the irony of life.

As Mr. Greene was picking up the last paper, a husky boy rushed in, banging the door before plopping next to Jon. Brian was what Jack had been the first time - disruptive and a jock.

Jon really hoped he hadn't been as bad as Brian. He had been a handful, but in Brian's case there was just obnoxiousness. Jon flattered himself that his pranks and quips at least had a bit of class behind them. Unfortunately, Brian had decided that Jon was part of his group of people.

Jon had smoked everyone in every gym class exercise, had the coaches drooling on the basketball team, and the football coach working on him to commit to football for the next season.

Having over forty years of experience at things helped. In this case it had helped him right into the 'jock' category, and Jon was trying to figure out how to extract himself.

"Hey dude. Saw you and Trish. Pretty hot, huh?"

Jon had just barely started his homework when Brian's whisper came across the aisle.

He glanced over and gave a half-smile and shrug.

"Bro, she be smokin'! You gonna tap 'dat ass?"

Jon winced. No he was not going to "tap 'dat ass" - he had no interest in tapping anything unless it was a double-tap to the head. He wasn't sure at this point if it would be Brian's head, Trisha's, or his own.

"Shhh," was all he replied.

"Oh come on! She is," Brian's voice had risen up a bit too loud and Mr. Greene's voice cracked out. "Mr. Vought! That's one extra problem for you tonight."

That shut Brian up for the rest of the class, at least as far as talking to Jon, and Jon bolted out the door too quickly for Brian to catch him. Geometry was the last class of the day, and he made his way to the gym, changed his clothes and hit the weights.

This was his escape.

He could tell he was bulking up more than he ever had the first time he had been a kid - the school gym, and then hours at the YMCA were giving him a different build.

He warmed up and began with squats. The muscles soon started a pleasant burn, and his mind began racing away from school.

He wondered how his team was doing. He couldn't help but think of them still as his team, even though they weren't. Technically never had been. He was three months old. All he had were memories stuck in his head. Nothing but memories. He was nothing but memories. What was he, really? He had claimed a different name, but privately still thought of himself as 'Jack'. Was he Jack? Was he someone else? Was he a person, even?

His muscles were groaning, but he knew how to force his body to give more. Twenty years of combat did that for a person. Of course he had never gone through twenty years of anything! He was only three damn months old!

He swapped to lighter weights once he couldn't squat any more with that weight, and began again. He thought of the hours spent with Teal'c in the gym, mostly in sparring, but sometimes with weights. The massive Jaffa could lift outlandish weights, though Jack was no lightweight himself. Daniel had been dragged into it and had come along nicely - having a body type that reacted quickly to weights.

He closed his eyes as he squatted, imagining himself back in the SGC, Teal'c and Daniel there with him. Sam over on the machines that she preferred. His thoughts took a different trail at the thought of his 2IC in her tank top, sweat trickling down between her ...

Jon stumbled, almost dropping the weights.

_Whew! Change topic!_

He tried to think of school, but he couldn't bring himself to care. His first idea of going through life and doing it better the second time around had been nice, but he really didn't care about doing it better any more. He wasn't sure what he wanted.

He shook his head as he replaced the weights again, almost down to nothing but the bar.

Oh, he knew what he wanted, but what he wanted was impossible. He wanted to BE Jack. He was Jack! He wanted to get back to his own life, though! This half-adult/half-kid mockery of a life was ridiculous!

He could feel the stuffed down frustration and rage pumping through him again. Damn Jack! He was living life like nothing had changed, while Jon was separated from everything he knew and going through the nightmare of high school as an adult stuck in a kid's ...

He felt a hand grab his butt as he began squatting. He hadn't paid any attention to his surroundings, but the voice told him everything.

"Ooo, that's nice!" Trisha squeezed.

His arms weren't tired, and the bar was flung up into the air to crash on the ground as Jon spun around to face her.

"What the hell?! Keep your slutty little hands to yourself!"

He saw Trisha flinch back as he shouted, but he didn't care that the other people in the gym could hear. There weren't many - two girls who were getting their track-required running in, and two of the football players working on their presses. It wasn't a required weight training day for any teams.

"Jon, I was just," Trisha began, but Jon overrode her, his volume rising.

"You think you can just go around grabbing people? Have you never hear of sexual harassment?! How many times have I brushed you off? When are you going to get the message? I'm! Not! Interested!"

Trisha went red, and sputtered for a second before gathering her wits.

"Oh, so the rumors are true? You really are gay!"

Jon almost smacked her with disgust. What was this? Grade school?

"I happen to be interested in girls who have a brain. Who are smart! Funny! Clever! Who's brains don't short circuit on topics other than sex and clothes!" Beautiful blue eyes, blonde hair, and smile that lit up the world flashed through his mind. "I'm interested in girls who don't going around grabbing my butt! That means I'm interested in girls who aren't _you_!"

Jon was screaming in her face at this point and Trisha had backed up against the wall, eyes wide in fear.

A heavy hand came down on Jon's shoulder and his reflexes kicked in. He grabbed the arm on his shoulder with one hand as he spun backwards, his free elbow pounding into a person's solar plexus, driving the wind out in a loud cough. Jon slid in closer to his attacker, tucked his body in tight and pulled the arm forward across his back while bending, flipping the person over his shoulder. As the person was in mid-air he pushed the body with one hand while yanking back on the man's arm and felt a pop as the shoulder dislocated.

Coach Jefferson screamed in pain as he landed, and a chill washed over Jon as the situation worked through his fevered emotions.

_Shit_.

"Oh god, Coach, I'm sorry. I didn't know it was you!"

He placed the dislocated arm that he still held across the coach's chest. The man groaned.

"Hold this here, and don't move it. I'm going to go call 911. I'm sorry."

"Go help him," he ordered the other kids in the room as he darted for the locker room. "I'll call an ambulance."

His phone was in his locker, and he was talking with the operator within thirty seconds. His mind was thinking beyond the phone call, though. Juvenile detention unless the Air Force stepped in. If they did, it would just be to move him to a different school. Crap. He really couldn't do this whole thing.

"Just send an ambulance prepped for a dislocated shoulder for a thirty year old male. He's in the exercise room here at Mountain View," he repeated the message and then dropped the phone on the floor. He was leaving this farce.

He grabbed his clothes from the locker and began casually walking out of the school. The Air Force was providing him with an income until he was twenty-one, direct deposited in a bank account for which he had a card. He'd pull out as much as he could until they closed the account or he emptied it. That was plenty of money for the moment.

Transportation wouldn't be too hard to arrange as long as he did it quickly enough - a bus out of town.

A basic disguise at first. Later make a better one. He, or Jack, or whoever he was, had several bug-out stashes around the country. He knew which ones were closest.

This was decided before he reached the doors of the school. He'd risk a trip to his house to grab some clothes. As long as he was fast enough, he would be in and out before police arrived.

Five hours later found Jon on the other side of the city eating a pizza. He wore a hat, and his hair was now blonde. Several cotton balls stuffed into his cheeks would give his face a chubbier look. An extra large jacket bought from a GoodWill store covered his build.

He had started to feel guilty at completely disappearing. His foster parents, an older couple, had been very nice to him. So had Coach Jefferson. He was writing a letter to each of them. He also wrote a letter to all of his teachers - they deserved some thanks just as a general rule. He hadn't appreciated what they went through until he was watching it with his adult mind/teen body.

That night a shadow moved through two homes and a school. In its wake, notes were left on two kitchen refrigerators, a more substantive apology left on a table, and on the coffee pot in the teachers' lounge an envelope with a letter was left.

Eleven thirty the next morning found Jon on a bus, a large backpack and a torn up laptop bag were all he was carrying, though that was plenty.

He had stopped by a law office where he, or 'Jack' as he continued to work on thinking of _that guy_ as, had a safety box on storage with special instruction. They had looked at the teenage boy a bit oddly, but he had given them the correct passwords, and so they gave him the box and a private room. Their client, one Jack O'Neill had paid well for this box to be held by them.

Jon took a certain glee in picking up this particular drop - it was his most extensive cache. Weapons. Several fake IDs, though Jon couldn't use those. Some basic forgery tools and an extensive collection of disguise materials. And seventy two thousand dollars in random bills.

The op that had supplied the money had been one of the ugliest, and Jon had … er, Jack, had taken a lot of actions that the government didn't want recorded in any way at all, so Jack hadn't told them about the money he had wound up holding afterward.

Jon considered sending the old guy a thank you note just to tweak his nose. Nah. He might start changing the drops, and Jon didn't know if he would need them in the future. When he did find out that this cache had been hit he would be pissed, though! Jon smirked. He had an idea, a really good idea, of what sort of reaction the older Jack would have when he found out.

This bus was headed to Missouri, though he didn't really care. Warm, though. He would pick someplace warm to settle in. Preferably where he could blend in easily. If he had to, he could do the homeless routine for a bit if it was warm.

He'd travel, first. Take buses around the country. A train a few times to break the pattern up. Hitchhike if he could. No planes. Maybe he'd spend some time … yeah, he'd spend some time in his cabin. Well, Jack's cabin. Screw Jack. He'd use the cabin if he wanted to! A month or two of traveling with his cash would get him well past Christmas and the New Year, so Jack wouldn't be likely to show up.

He'd finally be able to drink some beer. He was looking forward to that.

Maybe some travel time would let him think things through, too.

"Yes," he whispered. "It's time to figure out who Jon O'Neill really is."

* * *

**December 5th, 2004, 1st Precinct Police Headquarters, Colorado**

"No. I'm retracting my previous statement. I'm not going to press any charges."

David Jefferson, 'Coach' to the kids of Mountain View, was resolutely looking at the officer in front of him who was beginning to look flustered.

"Look," the officer began again. "This Jonathan is obviously violent. We'll pick him up for truancy, but with truancy charges he'll just be put back in school. He needs serious help. If there is an assault charge, we'll be able to keep him in an environment that is better for him and safer for everyone else, too. He won't be in jail, it will just …"

The officer's speech was interrupted by another officer who poked his head into the meeting room, "Pete, there's someone from the Air Force to speak with you about … this."

"Have him wait."

"The Chief called me and said it was important. Immediately important."

The first officer looked irritated and then looked back to Coach Jefferson.

"I'll be back in a couple minutes. Please think about this."

Coach Jefferson was thinking about it all right, but it wasn't about to change anything. When he had gotten home from the hospital that night he would have loved nothing more than to press charges. The next morning, though, a letter on his fridge and two thousand dollars on his kitchen table had given him pause.

He had liked Jon O'Neill, and had caught most of the rant Jon had leveled at the girl. He had been pretty impressed with the boy, though considering the fright on Trisha's face he had still needed to step in. He still marveled at how easily the boy had taken him down!

The letter had apologized to him, and accepted all the blame in a way that the coach wished more adults would imitate. It had also made some statements about more going on than the school knew, and apologized for the school (and Coach) getting caught in something that shouldn't have been their problem.

He might have brushed that off as a made-up story except for the stack of twenties on his table, with a hastily scrawled note saying this was the only way that Jon could put something concrete behind his apology. Later that afternoon, he had heard from another teacher that a huge delivery of donuts and specialty coffee had arrived at the school for all the teachers, courtesy of Jon O'Neill.

He now curiously watched as the police officer, rather angrily, talked with a military officer of some sort.

Two minutes later, the officer re-entered the glass-walled room in which Coach Jefferson was sitting.

"Ok. Are you certain you are retracting your statement?"

Jefferson raised his eyebrows at the change in tone - resigned and maybe slightly bitter.

"I'm certain."

A grimace flitted across the officer's face, but disappeared. "All right. I'll need you to sign a retraction …"

Jefferson wondered what was going on. First the apology note in a locked home that showed no signs of entry, a pile of money to back up the apology, and now the military had stepped into the investigation.

His first impression of Jon had been very favorable. Then he had been really pissed and ready to take the kid's head off while he was in the hospital, but now?

"_Good luck Jon,_" he thought.


	3. Memories don't let go

**This one is more of a little picture of Jon. He's still trying to figure things out, but the past doesn't let go easily. I have the next chapter almost done, so the storyline will continue soon.**

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**March 24, 2006, Daytona Beach, Florida**

Jon slammed his fist into the wall, uncaring of the results. The blast of pain felt right. It matched the pain inside.

Carter was gone. The SGC was gone. Without them, his life was gone.

Two years later it still hit him at odd times. This time he knew what the trigger was - a cute young woman with blonde hair, bright blue eyes, and a smile that looked so much like hers had crossed his vision. The throng of college-aged kids had flowed through the bar doors, barely noticing the man standing at the door keeping watch for trouble.

He sucked it up. It's what a soldier did, and though he hadn't been in the military for two years, he was still a soldier.

He didn't think too much, if he could help it, but the though wormed its way in again - was he actually a soldier? Had he ever actually been a soldier? He was Jon - not Jack - he told himself. Telling himself this ten thousand times hadn't worked, but he kept at it. Maybe after twenty thousand times it would stick.

Two years without talking with Sam. Without seeing that incredible smile light up his world.

Here he was, a forty-eight year old man, cloned into a body that was now about sixteen developmentally speaking, but had only been created by that damned Asgard two years ago. No friends. No family. No … Sam. He thought he had gotten over most of it, but all it took was a girl who looked a little like Sam and he turned into a wreck.

He lifted his head off his forearm where he was resting against the cement wall. The Air Force had set him up with a fake life in high school. Pfft. He wasn't sure they had really realized he wasn't just a collection of memories but instead the actual Jack, a forty six year old Colonel complete with a Masters degree. But, he had looked like a fourteen year old kid, and his appearance had trumped.

He snorted. He had gone with it at the time, dazed himself, but after just a few weeks he had realized it wouldn't work. It had taken a bit longer, unfortunately, before he left, but he had left.

As if they could keep Jack … Jon O'Neill in a high school for four years. They were just barely able to do that when he really had been fourteen.

Jon rubbed his temples - he had come back here to keep from freaking out in front of everyone, but he had to get it back together, now.

But his thoughts were still drawn back to his previous life. In the two years since, he had ghosted through Colorado Springs a few times, but felt like a stalker and had left. He had stopped by Charlie's grave early in the mornings on the anniversary before the other Jack showed up. Charlie was his kid, at least he thought of Charlie as his kid, and he'd be damned before he would give up the memory and right to mourn his child. He had left the stone wiped clean and the area picked up just like he … or the other he or whatever … always did.

It was a bit childish, but he knew the other him would notice and … he didn't know how the other him would react. Probably ticked at him. The thought of tweaking the other him's nose had felt good at the time. Now ...

The door to the back of the bar creaked open and Mike poked his head out.

"Yo Jon, you out here?"

Jon pushed off from the wall. While this body was only sixteen, the height, the fake ID, a lot of time at gyms working off steam, and some makeup had allowed him to pass for twenty. The "old" attitude helped too. That had gotten him a job as bouncer here in Daytona Springs.

"Yeah, man," he replied. "I've got a headache and just waiting for the Asprin to chase it away."

"Ok, Greg is itching to take off. Gonna chase some skirt if I know him."

Jon nodded, "All right, I'll let him get shot down again."

Jon was going through adolescence a second time, and it wasn't fun. He could tell he had less of an attention span and more of a urge to do whatever came to mind. But being close to fifty years old, at least in his head, made him feel squeemish about his attractions. Besides, none of them were Sam. A tight little ass and a perky pair caught his eye these days like they hadn't in nearly twenty years. His body kept saying 'yes' while his mind was conflicted and wanting more than quickie sex. 'Frustrating' was too tame a word.

He re-entered the bar, packed to the brim with spring break college students. Backed up to Daytona Beach, the party was still going strong at 1:30 in the morning.

Greg spotted him almost instantly. A former college football player with too many injuries and not enough skill for professional football, Greg had kept his muscles in the decade since. He had also kept his college brain. Living in the past, unwilling to move forward. Any girl could get past him with a few winks and suggestive words. He tried to collect on their insincere offers, but at thirty two it was getting harder for him. It didn't stop him from trying, though.

It had occurred to Jon a few times that he should take note of Greg. Living in the past that wasn't good, but the past didn't let go very easily.

"Beat it, Greg. I've got the rest of the night, no problems."

The big guy nodded and relaxed his stern posture. Jon had already assume the attitude on his trip across the bar since it helped part the crowd.

"All right, so far nothing much. There's the group by the windows that are getting a bit rowdy, but they're shrimps."

Jon nodded. He had seen them earlier and likewise had dismissed them as serious problems. He might conspicuously walk by them if they started getting too much steam going.

"Gotcha. Enjoy the night."

Greg nodded and began working his way through the room. There had been enough winks given and the crowd was drunk enough that Greg would probably get something tonight. A flash of blonde caught his eye across the room, and his stomach turned a bit.

He watched her for a moment, and it became obvious it had only been the quick glance that had reminded him of Sam - the girl was laughing loudly and drunkenly. Not a giggle in sight. He could still hear that giggle in his mind.

The thought barely made it past his lips, but it burned to the core.

"No giggling, Carter."


	4. He did WHAT!

**Yes, two chapters in one day! Will the craziness never end?! :-D**

**I wrote the two chapters together, but they were sufficiently different that I didn't want to put them together. Jon is working through some of the different stages of grief, with complications of his unique situation - a now-16 year old body that has only existed for 2 years but with the mind of a 46 year old Jack. Yeah, good luck psychoanalyzing that! But he is still 'Jack' ... or, well, sort of, kind of, er, well ... it's complicated. :-)**

* * *

**November 28, 2006, Denver, Colorado**

Jon walked out of the recruitment office with a grin. He loved to frustrate 'em. He knew it wasn't rational, but he didn't care. He hated the Air Force right now. He would go into the office with a made-up name, blow away every test they had, and walk out with the recruiters all but hanging off his foot, begging him to join up.

He was planning on using _that_ Jack's cabin again for a few weeks, but he could never bring himself to leave it in anything less than perfect condition, so he was picking up supplies. The recruitment station was in the same strip mall, and since he didn't have a schedule there was always time to feed his grudge.

He had stolen a Jeep in Florida when he left there a week ago. The previous 'owner' was a drug dealer who had taken the car from a hooked client. Jon felt rather pleased with himself, and had entertained himself on his trip across the South swapping license plates with random cars, sometimes swapping multiple cars' plates around.

He knew it was childish and reckless, but screw it. Who cared any more. He considered swapping a few plates in this parking lot, but resisted the urge this time. He was feeling good from frustrating the recruitment officers and he really wanted to get back to the cabin. He hadn't been back there for almost a year.

In his quieter moments, he recognized some of his symptoms. For as many psych sessions as he had been in for all his years of crazy shit, he knew them as well as, if not better than the whack jobs counseling him. Black Ops PTSD had been nothing compared to some of the stuff he had done while working with the Stargate.

He smiled wrily at the thought of how they would try to psych his brain now - forty eight years old in an almost seventeen year old body that was actually only two years old.

One bright side to all this, if there was one, was that his nightmares had faded away. He had been captured more than a few times during the years going through the Stargate, and those had done a hell of a number on him. He hadn't had a nightmare or serious flashback in close to a year, though. That was nice.

Flashbacks to his … previous life still happened though. There were days where he was in a funk because it would come rushing back to him - how much he had lost. At least the rages had faded away. Mostly.

On that happy thought he pulled out a cart and began wandering the aisles of the store. He didn't want to grab any beers here, since he still had quite a few hours in the car before he reached the cabin. He'd probably sleep along the road, actually. He grabbed some applesauce and was about to toss it in when a conversation behind him caught his attention.

"... know Teal'c loves these! He does that whole eyebrow thing when he sees them!"

He stiffened. Someone from the base was behind him. It was a young voice that he couldn't place, but considering the topic, he guessed it would be ...

Jon casually turned, as the response reached his ears. _That_ voice he recognized!

"All right, all right. I agree. It is fun to see him react. I'll bet the Colonel likes these too."

Janet was just as he remembered her - tiny, energetic, Napoleanic Power Monger. A smirk worked its way across his face as he watched them fill their cart.

"It's gonna be great! They missed Thanksgiving, but they'll be out of the mountain tomorrow and oh god, this will be just like old times. I haven't seen Sam since school started!" Cassie was probably around sixteen or seventeen and energetic. Cute kid, too. If he ever heard of a boyfriend, he'd come over and ...

Jon spun away.

He'd do nothing.

That wasn't his life. It would be that damned old geezer who had all the luck. _That Jack_ would be able to put the fear of God into a boyfriend. He would be able to see Cassie and make her laugh and hear her yell 'Uncle Jack!'

His chest clenched. Never again could he see his friends. Damn, he'd even listen to the Space Monkey ramble about his rocks, at this point.

"Excuse me."

Janet's voice cut into his thoughts.

He schooled his face and turned to see her. A dear friend even if she did poke him with honkin' big needles.

"We need some applesauce, there."

"Oh! Yeah, sorry."

He jerked his cart out of the way and looked at Cassie. She met his eyes and looked down with an embarrassed smile. He recognized it from those months in high school and he couldn't help a weird laugh bubble out. Girl being shy around a cute guy.

She obviously didn't recognize him. She possibly hadn't even heard of his creation. Janet hadn't seemed to notice him either.

That inner gremlin bubbled up. Jack or Jon, some things didn't change. The chance to play a prank.

"Dang, that's quite a feast you're planning. Late Thanksgiving?"

He put every last bit of effort into this, trying to get 'flirting' into this voice. He assiduously ignored Janet as her head whipped around to spear him.

Cassie looked up and grinned a little, "Yeah, we've got family who were, um, traveling over Thanksgiving, so we're, yeah, having Thanksgiving late." She smiled at him. Yeah, she probably already had boys lined up around the block. "You've got quite a pile going too. Big party?"

"Yeah, it'll be great. My friends are spending the weekend up at a cabin before school starts again. Gotta have some fun in life, ya' know. If you weren't busy with family, I'd invite you up." He laid on a smirk and a raised eyebrow, focusing everything he could to get 'suggestiveness' into his voice.

Cassie blushed, and Janet stepped in with a bright voice that had a bit of an edge that Jon recognized, "All right, turkey is next. Let's _go_."

Cassie gave a complex facial expression that managed to convey annoyance that she was being interrupted and a nice smile to Jon.

"Ok, I, um gotta go. Hey, um, have fun." Cassie edged past him and gave a little wave.

He kept the leering smirk on his face until they reached the end of the aisle and turned, Cassie and Janet both turning their heads to see him. Their expressions were very different.

Jon collapsed on the ground next to his cart, laughing as quietly as he could, tears beginning to stream down his face. Oh Janet's look had been _priceless_! It took him several moments to pull himself together enough to stand back up, and he kept giggling every time he thought of that basilisk glare she had leveled at him as they had turned out of the aisle! He hadn't received something like that even on his worst days in medical!

He decided it would be even better if Janet was in on the joke, and went to find a pad of paper and some pens for sale. A quick note was scribbled down, and he carefully signed his name, Jon O'Neill. He tossed the used pad and pens into his cart and folded up the piece of paper.

A few moments later and some coordination had him meet Cassie and Janet again by '_accident_'. Their cart, and most importantly Janet's purse, were a few yards from them. He walked down without his cart and as he passed the cart, he slid the note into her purse, sticking out obviously.

He brushed Cassie's shoulder, startling both ladies. He had spent more than enough time in his life sneaking around that they hadn't noticed him come up.

He gave Cassie a little grin and picked up a random box of something off the shelf before turning back to pass them again.

This time he gave Janet his best 100% money-back guaranteed O'Neill-with-two-L's smirk and a waggle of his eyebrows. Janet's expression went from suspicious glare to a shocked blush.

Jon gave her a wink and walked past, not looking back, but feeling both of their stares on his back.

An older lady entered the aisle and looked at Jon with an odd expression. Why on earth would a young guy have such a huge grin on his face in a grocery store?

Jon quickly checked out and loaded his Jeep. He was whistling as he drove out, heading up to the cabin. He was feeling pretty good.

* * *

Cassie and Janet were both rather quieter than usual as they finished their shopping trip and drove back to Colorado Springs.

Janet had found the note and managed to read it without Cassie noticing.

_The look on your face was almost worth all those nasty needles you kept sticking in me. I feel sorry for any boy who comes sniffing around Cassie._

_Say Hi to the team for me. Stick the old fart with a really big honkin' needle._

_Jon O'Neill_

* * *

"God he was such a rapscallion!"

Janet and the entire SG-1 team were sprawled around her living room. The late Thanksgiving dinner had been a boisterous affair with everyone glad to have the time together. It was now a quarter after one in the morning and the group was settled into a comfortable glow of happy drowsiness.

Daniel was passed out on the recliner, snoring lightly. Cassie had curled up with a throw blanket on the couch and a pillow on Teal'c's leg, apparently asleep. Sam and Jack were on the love seat, both relaxed back and casually in contact with each other.

Janet had just related the tale to them and was giggling, having had several glasses of wine and in a delightful mood.

Sam had the letter and was grinning ear to ear. Jack was fuming, muttering dark and dire threats he would visit on the 'little snot'.

Sam looked up, "What was he doing in Denver?"

Janet waved her hand. "After I got back, I checked up on him. After a couple months he disappeared. Cleaned out the bank accounts they had set up for him, and vanished. The cops could never find anything. The Air Force was able to figure out his movements for a few days until he finished withdrawing all the money from the accounts and then the trail went cold. I'm sure Jon would have no problems disappearing - he has all the memories of Jack."

Sam elbowed Jack a little and Janet noticed that she had edged a little closer to him with the movement. Sam had just started seeing a cop named Pete, but Janet could tell where her true feelings lay. Hopefully that would end soon, because it was clear to Janet, at least, that Sam and Jack were in love with each other and were perfect for each other.

"Sir, are you out there causing trouble somewhere as a sixteen year old boy?"

Jack grunted a bit sourly, making Sam giggle.

Jack looked at her fiercely, "No giggling!" Sam, who had been matching Janet, glass for glass, just giggled all the more.

Jack shrugged and took another drink of his Guinness. "I wouldn't have had any trouble disappearing."

Teal'c nodded, "Indeed. With the memories of ColonelO'Neill, I am certain the boy is a capable and cunning warrior."

Janet decided Teal'c was in a great mood - that had been a freely offered sentence and was quite long, by Teal'c standards.

Jack was taking another swig when he suddenly coughed, beer dribbling down his chin. "Sir? Are you okay?" Sam grabbed a napkin and gave it to Jack, who coughed several more times as he cleaned his chin and dabbed at his shirt-front.

"Fine. I just remembered something. I … well, I have a few bug-out packs stashed around." The ladies gave him odd looks and he gave an embarrassed wave. "Back in my black ops days, it, well, anyway, I have a few stashes of IDs, some equipment, and money. If I were me, I, er, well if he were me, I mean that I, or he, we…"

Jack paused in consternation as he worked through how he should phrase it and then gave up.

"Anyway, I'll bet I need to set up some new ones."

During his pronoun problem, Janet and Sam had devolved into gales of laughter and giggling.

Jack glared at them. "What?"

He looked at Teal'c. The big man had a big smile on his face.

"Aw! Fer cryin' out loud!"

Sam and Janet fell over, holding their sides.

Cassie, eyes closed, couldn't help but grin as she listened to her family. What a weird family it was, but it was wonderful and it was hers.

So that boy had been a clone of Jack with all his memories. She wondered if it was just memories like remembering a movie, or if it were more like a copy of a whole personality. She finally fell asleep, wondering how that would work or be like.


	5. Face to Face

**Thanks to all the people who sent in anonymous reviews. I can't reply directly, but this is my thanks for all the encouragement. Reviews really are life and energy! Jon is starting to move on from his funk here, but, well, let's just say he still has a few issues.**

**We get to see Jon and Jack together!**

* * *

**July 1, 2008. Washington, DC.**

Jon was feeling nervous. Blackbriar Securities was a high-end security firm, and it was Jon's first step toward starting a real life that was worth something.

It was now four years since he had been made, and he was finally coming to settle down with what he wanted to do. He had tried a community college for a semester, but academics wasn't something he was ready for again. He had a masters degree, and the thought of working through the loads of dumb classes, surrounded by just-barely-less-silly-than-high-school kids again was more than he wanted to take.

Besides the life of a nine-to-five job at a desk wasn't something he wanted to even contemplate. He had decades of combat experience, and while he had no desire to go back to the black ops world of the military, he had come to realize he was itching for the pressure and … thrill of action. However, jumping into a good security job without references was close to impossible, so he had finally bit the bullet and contacted the government.

Eventually, they had agreed to vouch for him in a completely no-comment way that Jon knew would be like catnip to a high-caliber security firm.

"Mr. O'Neill? Mr. Martin is ready to see you."

The glass and chrome office had a matching receptionist who had been eyeing O'Neill since he had arrived for his interview.

Jon stood up, settling into his military mindset. Four years of bumming around and a yonger body wasn't enough to get rid of over twenty years of experience as a soldier.

He gave the girl a small smile as he passed, and got the expected flirty smile. He wasn't sure if he naturally looked older, if it was some of his old personality coming through, or what, but he regularly passed for being in his early twenties. The resume given to Blackbriar, such as it was, listed him as twenty three.

A man in his forties and clearly ex-military stood up and walked around the desk with hand out, hair still trimmed to military standards.

"Mr. O'Neill, I'm glad to see you. I'm Chase Martin, the VP of recruitment here at Blackbriar. Take a seat."

"Thank you, sir."

If Jon had to guess at the man, he'd say Army with some special training. He took a quick glance around the room as he sat. Ranger coin. Two purple hearts. Bronze star. The plaques along the wall gave him some of the basics. A picture of soldiers jumping out of the back of a plane gave the last clue - probably airborne in there somewhere.

"So, do you go by Jonathan or Jon?"

"Jon."

"Jon, then. What brings you to apply here?"

He couldn't resist the wisecrack, "A job."

Chase twitched an eyebrow. "Hmmm, yes, but why here at Blackbriar in particular?"

Jon gave himself a mental shake. This wasn't time for smart-ass comments.

"Security seems to be the best fit for my skills, sir." Jon kept the responses short, maintaining a fresh-out-of-the-military direct answer pattern.

"Your skills, yes." The man gave a pause, looking down at Jon's resume. "It says you were in the Air Force for four years, joined up right at eighteen, served for four years and out with an honorable discharge. And that's about it. Care to give a bit more detail?"

This was the tricky part. "After Lackland I went in for some additional training in special tactics. After that I kept busy with wherever the Air Force decided I needed to be, sir." That was completely ridiculous, but in this case the government had set up confirmation checks so that everything, including the type of training he had done was all tucked away under a Top Secret ribbon of Eyes-Only for probably General Hammond, or someone. Blackbriar would have gotten the basic 'I'm sorry, but Staff Sergeant O'Neill's record is classified. He was honorably discharged May 17, 2008."

If they bothered to start using side contacts to get more information, they would have gotten nothing except confirmations that his record wasn't merely classified, but was classified at the highest I-will-lose-my-job-if-I-even-ask-about-it level.

The total lack of detail gave nothing to contradict, no matter how weird it might smell.

"Well what sort of skills do you bring from your training?"

Jon smirked a little. Apparently Blackbriar had done some digging because the man across from him hadn't even blinked at Jon's crazy response or tried to get more details.

"Expert marksmanship. MAC level 3, though I just never had time to get level 4. I've also had a lot of other," Jon paused, pretending to be looking for the right word, "um, _irregular_ training."

That was mostly true. He actually was MAC level 4, but getting level 4 in just four years of service was impossible. The word 'irregular' should trigger a whole host of assumptions on their part.

"SERE?"

Ahh, there came the poking Jon expected.

"I can't discuss my specific training, sir."

"Classified?"

Jon just nodded.

"Well, then what made you leave the Air Force? I can make some pretty good guesses as to what sorts of things you were doing."

Jon held in a smirk. As if.

The man continued, "That stuff is addicting. I know. So why stop? Especially if you're looking at getting back into something at least a little similar here at Blackbriar?"

Jon knew he had the guy hooked. Just needed to reel him in. He paused and let loose a breath.

"I actually have a story about why I am no longer in the Air Force, but the real truth is that even my reasons for no longer being in the Air Force are classified. I'm sorry. I can give you an off-the-record reference who can assure you that there's nothing bad going on."

The older man leaned back, and considered the young man sitting in front of him. There was some skepticism there. Jon didn't blame him - this was the most ridiculous story Jon could imagine. But the classified confirming non-confirmation was a weird sort of support that actually made the story work. At least for these sorts of people.

Jon didn't bother generating anything other than patience. This was an op. He didn't even have the urge to fiddle. Mostly.

A minute passed, and Jon kept his eyes on the older man, never blinking.

Finally the other man gave a sigh and broke the stare.

"I want the name."

Jon nodded. "General George Hammond."

He wanted to see the reaction. This guy was ex-Army, but he still might have heard some things about Hammond.

The man had picked up a pen, about to write the name, but then paused before looking back up at Jon.

"General George Hammond." The tone was flat. He set down the pen and leaned back in the chair, considering Jon again, this time with a much more intense focus.

After a few seconds passed, he spoke.

"I was Army, but I did enough cross-training with you Air Force people that I know a few people. Hammond was the topic of quite a few rumors back then - he was clipping up the ranks, and then he left a good position to go work on one of the stupidest things I had ever heard of - deep space telemetry. If that had been true, it would have been a huge step down, but his reputation kept growing among the highest brass even though we never heard why. Eventually he got moved even higher up, but no one seemed to know where he was in the chain of things other than a generic 'higher than God' sort of authority."

He fixed Jon with suspicious glare.

'_Yup,'_ Jon thought. '_Hook, line, and sinker.'_

"So General Hammond? They had tons of special forces people disappear into Hammond's world and more specialists than anyone could figure out a reason for. Absolute cream of the cream of the crop. There were a lot of _training accidents_ there too." The words were stressed - everyone knew what sorts of things caused lots of 'training accidents'.

The man shook his head at Jon's extreme neutral expression. Jon had made sure he put on his super-obvious blank face while the man fished for reactions. That would be its own signal.

"Jon, there's not much of anything on this resume, but I'm going out on a limb for you. I served honorably in the Army for eight years and I know that coming out of the military can be tough, especially with as little as it seems you are allowed to talk about. I suspect you will be an excellent addition to our company. I will contact General Hammond, but that's just a formality. You're hired."

Jon gave a smile and nodded. "Thank you sir, you won't regret it."

"Excellent!" Chase stood up. "Let's start getting you oriented and get all of the in-briefing stuff done." He shook Jon's hand. "Welcome to Blackbriar!"

* * *

Jon left around 4:00, slightly exhausted by the amount of paperwork he had needed to fill out - health care, retirement, insurance, salary, NDAs, and a hundred other forms. He was ready for a meal, and part of their welcome package was an advance of a thousand dollars, given in crisp hundred dollar bills. Jon was impressed, in spite of his cynical nature, and could only imagine the effect this sort of treatment would have on someone who really was a young buck fresh out of the military.

One of the girls had suggested a restaurant about two blocks away, mentioning that she loved to eat there and got off at five. Jon wondered if he should take her up on it. What the hell, why not?

She wasn't Car… exactly the type of person he was looking for, but she seemed intelligent enough to be good for some conversation as well as a roll. He hadn't tried sleeping with anyone yet, but the idea didn't seem quite as much a betrayal as it had in years past. Maybe he was getting over her after four years. Of course, the fact that he was still setting Sam as his standard might indicate otherwise.

He sighed.

He had walked for two blocks before something began to feel a bit off. He wasn't sure what it was, but he trusted his instincts. He stepped to the side of the foot traffic flow and pulled out a phone. Cell phones made the best excuses ever!

A second of looking at his phone and then he glanced around as if looking for directions. And … there he was. That damned half-smirk on his face, the grey hair, and the dress blues. It had taken nearly a year before Jon stopped being surprised when he didn't see that face in the mirror.

Jack came walking up as Jon glared at … himself, as he remembered himself. Actually, that wasn't quite true. Jack had a bit more silver in his hair and maybe a few more wrinkles around the eyes.

"So, congratulations on the new job."

"So, congratulations on the promotion." Jack was a brigadier general, it looked like.

The two men stared at each other, eye to eye. A pedestrian, took a double-take at the two men, obviously father and son, who looked so much alike.

"Let's get something to eat," the general said.

"I was heading over to the Capital Bar," Jon offered. He hadn't been sure how he would react to seeing himself in his old body, but he knew it had to happen eventually. He could do this politely.

Jack wrinkled his nose, "Too trendy. I know a good steak place around the corner."

Jon shrugged. He didn't have anything against trendy places, hell he hadn't been in any 'trendy' places since … he'd … well, technically he'd never been in a trendy place. But, he knew he would probably tire of it quickly if he did start hitting them … again. Sort of again. He always tried new places back in the Springs, before he'd … existed, or whatever. Anyway, yeah, trendy had quickly come to equal silly food and drink in his mind.

The familiar sense of confusion when he thought about himself and his history usually brought him down, and he shook it off, looking for something to distract himself.

"_Well, if it's not a ready-made distraction right here,_" he thought as his older self walked beside him. He felt a flash of irritation at the shades the general was wearing - exactly the same as the shades he was wearing. Dammit.

"So, you couldn't cut it in the field any more, so they stuck you behind a desk?"

Jack's stride hitched just a bit, and Jon let a smirk show.

"First, head of SGC, and now … head of something here in D.C."

"Ah, I wondered what sort of alarms would go off when I reconnected."

They walked in silence for half a block before Jack spoke again. "The team was a bit worried when they heard you had vanished. The NID was still out there, you know."

"You worried about me?"

Jack smirked, "Nope. I'm too good. You've got all my memories. You were fine."

Jon's next move caught Jack completely by surprise. Jon's fist buried itself in Jack's stomach, bending Jack over just in time to have his arm forced up behind his back and be slammed up against the marble wall, Jon's forearm across the back of his neck.

"You bastard," Jon hissed in Jack's ear. "I am you! I'm not just a walking bunch of memories, I am _you_! I left everything - every friend, everything I knew, everything! I left _HER_! I was the last thing from 'fine' you selfish son of a bitch!"

Jack glared, but couldn't say anything, still sucking back his wind. He didn't struggle, though.

"Edora? That was nothing! I was trapped away, so I made do because there was no other choice. Here? I left everything even though it was right there in front of me! All the damned time. _Sam!_ Four years of never seeing or hearing Sam. Like starving with a feast just an inch out of reach! And you just say I was 'fine'! You …"

Jon dropped his grip on Jack's wrist and pushed himself back, suddenly feeling empty.

"You selfish, lucky bastard." It came out as a whisper.

Jack coughed a little and cleared his throat.

"Yeah. Maybe I am."

Jon shook his head, suddenly ashamed at his outburst. "I, I don't really blame you. I'm just pissed. You. Me. Us. Everything."

Jon smirked a little. "Though punching you felt really good."

Jack glared.

"Then you get to pay for the steaks."

"Hell no, geezer. The government can pick up the tab."

Jack's eyes tightened and Jon knew references to his age would get him. He remembered being very sensitive about his age.

"Fine, _squirt_."

Jon's eyes narrowed as Jack smirked. Apparently two could play that game.

* * *

"Yeah, a few alarms went off when you reconnected."

Jack and Jon were in a private room, beers in hands. Jack had seemed a bit surprised at Jon's selection of a craft brewery harvest something, and was drinking his standard Guinness. Jon was starting to relax a little.

"Leaving the glue and feather bombs for that collection team was pretty funny."

Jon smirked.

"It took a few days for news to get up to my office, and I called off the collection effort."

Jon sipped his beer. That had been an interesting week - each time he contacted the old contact number he had been given, a collection team showed up. The first one he had expected and he had been blocks away, watching through binoculars as they searched the area. By the time the third one came along he had been getting sick of the whole runaround and laid a surprise.

"I wondered. I figured something had changed after they suddenly began being genuinely helpful." Jon paused. He desperately wanted to know how things were going, but he couldn't ask.

Especially couldn't ask Jack.

It had been a screwed up situation with no good solution, and he didn't truly blame anyone except that Loki alien, but it was still a sore point. But his team had been his friends - no not just friends, they'd been his family - and he wanted to know how they were.

Jack seemed to read his mind.

"Teal'c is away at the moment, but he wants to see you if you have some time. He told me that after your little stunt with Janet."

Maybe there was some sort of mind reading thing because Jon suddenly knew there was something else when the word 'Janet' had come out. Jon met Jack's eyes, and something passed between - Jon knew something was wrong, and knew that Jack knew he knew.

"Janet… Janet died nine months ago. On a mission."

Jon froze for a moment. She was a tyrant. She was part of the family, even if she was always sticking him with needles. They ….

"Damn."

It was all Jon could get out. That news punched him in the chest and it was hard to breathe.

The silence stretched for a moment and when Jon finally looked up, he could see the agony in his own heart playing out on his … older face.

"Did you kill the bastards?"

Jack nodded.

"Thanks."

Their waiter entered the room and set down two large steaks.

"How's Cassie doing?"

Jack gave a genuine, full smile and Jon could hear the pride in his voice. "Good. That girl is smart. Almost Carter-level smart. She's been taking college classes for almost two years now and is heading over to Stanford this fall. Something with genetics or something medical science-y."

Jon smirked and knew that Jack could have rattled of the exact degree and probably every class she had taken already with all the grades. Of course, the grades were probably easy to remember - just 'A' the whole way across. It was the image, though. Beer. Hockey. Simpsons. People didn't look much beyond that.

"Spacemonkey?"

"Not much different. He is still fascinated with rocks. He's also really bad at dying. He's tried it a couple more times but keeps managing to get it wrong."

Jon smiled a little, but knew the flippancy was covering a lot of anguish. Daniel was like a brother. Jon missed teasing the guy.

Jack began giving some anecdotes of things happening recently. Jon's gut tightened a time or two, but the Earth was still standing and still Evil Overlord Free. That wasn't his job any more, he had to set it aside.

No news was given about Carter, directly.

Jon didn't ask.

Thirty minutes later they walked out the door into the humid Washington summer evening.

Jack paused after they both put their shades on.

"You're welcome to come see Charlie. Last year, I didn't see ..."

Jon broke in. He knew what Jack was saying and how hard it was.

"I was there in the morning. I figured it was your turn to get to spruce it up." This last anniversary he had arrived at dawn as usual, but had eventually left without cleaning the site. He'd let Jack do it that time. Next time he would clean it.

Jack gave a nod. "Thanks."

Without a word, the two men turned and walked away from each other.


	6. Mourning Losses

**This took a bit longer than I had planned, but on the good side, my taxes are done! Yay! Real life can interrupt the writing/editing, and that's just the pits!**

**This is a bit short, my apologies, but it stood by itself and didn't fit with the chapter before or after. I really, REALLY hated that Janet died in the show, and I was sorely tempted to leave her alive in here, but I'm trying to keep this fairly close to the series, so I bit the bullet and let her die in this story too. But, darn it, I didn't like it and neither did Jon!**

* * *

**October 10, 2008, Colorado Springs, Elysium Fields Cemetery**

Jon stood at Janet's grave marker. After three months at Blackbriar he had taken the holiday off to come see Janet's grave. Yesterday had been the anniversary of her death, but he hadn't come that day, not wanting to run into any of the team. For thirty minutes he had stood at her grave, remembering. Tears and smiles alternated as he remembered the years with her.

Some of those tears were tears of anger at himself. He hadn't been there to protect her. He couldn't be there with his friends. His team. But they had always been fine. They would always come out on top, no matter what.

But then one of them had died. No coming back. No merely "probably died" leaving hope, but actually died. A part of his family was gone. Forever. He couldn't be there with them, but they had always been ok and he hadn't realized how much that had meant to him until he had seen the grave. Janet was gone.

He could hear someone walking up, but couldn't bring himself to bother stopping his tears of rage. He quieted his body and lowered his head - they wouldn't realize he was anything more than another person spending a quiet moment at a grave.

The steps stopped behind him, and he tensed. Those had been female steps. He prayed it wasn't Carter. He couldn't take that right now.

"Excuse me."

The voice wasn't Carter's, at least.

He straightened his head and looked ahead. The dry air would dry the tear tracks in a moment.

"Did, did you know my mom?"

The voice was soft and full of compassion. Cassie.

His voice was a little rough.

"I did."

She stepped up beside him, and Jon glanced at her. She was looking down at the grave, and he almost wouldn't have recognized her. A quick bit of addition figured she was eighteen, but at the moment she looked older.

"Did you work with her? In the Mountain?"

"Yeah." His voice caught. Damn it. He could feel the tears trying to come again.

The hitch caught her attention and she looked up at him.

A moment's confusion, and then a flash of comprehension. Yeah, she was a smart one. A tiny smirk caught the edge of his mouth at the thought.

"Oh! You're Jack."

Yes. Yes he was. He was the Jack who had left everything. Including that name.

"It's complicated. I go by Jon."

"You caused quite the wonderful time when you saw us in the supermarket, you know. My mom was was outraged and shocked and thrilled all at the same time. I asked her about it later and she said that since you caused her a heart attack and the Colonel was the only one close enough to lay hands on, she would have a special needle for him."

The smile in her voice brought a smile to his face.

"Good. She was the only person I couldn't get around. I could never sneak out until she was gone. Napoleonic Power Monger."

Cassie gave a bark of laughter that turned into a sob. Jon's heart reacted before his head, and he grabbed her up against his chest, tucking her head under his chin. She wrapped her arms around his waist and sobbed. Jon felt his tears again, and he didn't bother holding them in.

* * *

Cassie sat across from Jon and toyed with the calamari appetizer. They had stayed out at the cemetery for nearly an hour after she had cried at her mom's grave. She had been embarrassed to look up at him afterward, certain her face was blotchy, but his own eyes were red and he gave her a handkerchief and gazed away for a few moments as she got herself back together.

He shared some of his memories of her mom, and Cassie had stood next to this tall stranger who wasn't a stranger at all, again seeing her mom through his words.

It was pretty disconcerting to see him. She had known that Uncle Jack was really handsome, but he was old and, well, an Uncle. At eighteen, this Jack was young and cute. That just felt weird.

Finally Jon had suggested they get something to eat. He had a grin that was seriously threatening her sanity, and she kept working at stuffing down the part of her that wanted to flirt with the gorgeous, funny, thoughtful guy in front of her.

They had covered her college life and now she wanted to ask him about himself, but wasn't sure how to broach the topic. She gave herself a mental shake, '_Just go for it, Cassie,'_ she told herself.

"Do you mind if I ask some questions about … you?"

Jon's expression was a bit quizzical, but didn't seem upset.

"Sure. I've been bumming around and just started work with a security firm. Spent a month in training with them and now I'm working as a guard at a facility in Washington. Gonna be shipping off for a personal security job pretty soon."

Cassie shook her head. That was just fluff stuff. She wondered if he had volunteered that to keep things on a lighter side of his life. "I mean, about _you_. You're Jack, but young. Are you doing ok? I mean, 'weird' is an understatement."

He looked at her with a considering expression, and she felt a flush hit her cheeks. Oh god! She was poking her nose in where it didn't belong. She wouldn't have poked into Uncle Jack's life, and even though he didn't look like Jack… Oh god. "Sorry, I shouldn't have …."

"No, it's fine," Jon interrupted her. "I'm just trying to figure out how to describe it." A wave of relief washed over her. He wasn't pissed.

"It has changed over the years. When I was first … made, I was just like I always had been, just with a different body. Then once we got my first body back, it was too weird to stay around each other, and, well, let's just leave it at 'awkward'. I agreed to be resettled. Seeing me in a fourteen year old body made everyone think of me as a teenage Jack, but I wasn't. I was Jack in a different body."

Cassie watched as Jon struggled with the words, his big hands rubbing his face.

"Even I sort of got suckered into that thinking - I thought I would be a fourteen year old and just sort of start over and grow into someone different. But I wasn't. I was an adult Jack who left everyone and everything I knew, and had to stay away for everyone's sanity. But school was hell! Do you have any idea how stupid silly kids are when they're fourteen!"

Cassie was whipsawing between horror at the idea of being forced to leave everything and giggling at the horror in Jon's eyes when he spoke about high school. A soft laugh escaped her lips and Jon gave a crooked grin that made her heart flip.

"So, yeah, I don't really know how to describe it. I couldn't be a kid. I couldn't be around anyone I knew. So I bummed around for a year or so before I started working 'adult' jobs. Four years has let things settle down, but it's still pretty weird."

Jon shrugged, and Cassie wondered how much was being left unsaid behind that casual shrug.

Cassie didn't probe any more, and they finished their meal in comfortable conversation. Mostly. She saw him react to the news that Sam had been engaged to a cop and she hurried to say it had been broken off. It dawned on her that _her_ Uncle Jack was in love with Sam and had gone through a dark time, so this Jon might still have some feelings for Sam.

Yeah, "weird" didn't even begin to cover it.

It was late by the time Jon declared he needed to catch a red-eye back to DC.

Cassie hated for the evening to end, but nodded and pulled on her coat. Quietly, they walked out of the restaurant.

At the parking lot she suddenly blurted, "Before you go, what's your number? Let's keep in touch."

She felt a little nervous, almost like she was asking a guy for his number. She felt a little flutter seeing his grin again. That thing was dangerous on him, even if he was Uncle Jack.

"Sure. Here's a text."

Her phone chirped as the text came in and she narrowed her eyes at him. How … ?

There came that devastating smirk again and her heart began to thump harder as he came closer and wrapped her in a hug.

She wrapped her arms around him and enjoyed the hug. It had started out such a sad day, going to talk with mom alone, but it had ended oh so nicely.

"Take care, kiddo." She felt him press a kiss to the top of her head.

He walked over to his car and she waved, "Bye Ja - Jon."

He waved to her before she turned to her car.

That had felt a lot more like Uncle Jack there at the end, but … not, and … oh she could tell she would be thinking about this one for a while.

"Who are you, Jon O'Neill," she whispered to herself.


	7. Eh, it's a job

**Getting a bit of action in on this one. Jon's keeping busy, and you know he wouldn't have it any other way.**

**I want to say thanks to all the non-logged-in reviews - the reviews are catnip! I'm going to beg especially hard for some reviews on this chapter - it has a lot of chaotic action happening and I'm not sure it's going to be comprehensible to anyone but me. It makes sense in my head! If you can't make heads or tails of this chapter, let me know. I'll try to get my stuff together for the next time! (and yes, there will be more action - it's Jon!)**

* * *

**March 15, 2009, Mogadishu, Somalia**

"_Beware the Ides of March, indeed._"

Jon was watching far too many people with guns for his comfort. Most uncomfortable was that many of them were ostensibly good guys, but scuttlebutt had it that there might be a few men of questionable loyalty here.

His first personal protection job for Blackbriar was a doozy. "_Which is why they want people like me,_" he mused. "_Sucks to be me._"

His charge, Jaques Somlier, was arranging a deal with the president of the Transitional Federal Government. The problem was that the TFG barely controlled the country, and the capital here was even less controlled than Somalia usually was since the Islamic Courts Union was still fighting fiercely just outside the city.

He was getting itchy. Something was wrong. The streets had been slowly clearing of people for no reason that Jon could determine.

"I'm getting a bad feeling," he spoke into his mic. "The streets are too empty - something's going on."

The protection team was led by Lars Bergstrom - a detailed leader and a good guy in Jon's eyes. A former Marine with twelve years of experience in high-risk personal security. He hadn't spent months in Africa running spec ops, like Jon had, though.

"It's the mid-day lull, Jon. Relax."

Jon didn't care for being the low man on the team, but he could follow orders. He also wasn't going to blindly follow them, though.

Two men, in addition to Lars and him, were active on the team right now. Mickey had the armored car, Sean was outside the door to the Prime's meeting, while Jon and Lars were watching the building.

"I'm going to head up to the second floor to get a better view."

They were both patrolling the first floor of the ratty government building, keeping a counter-rotation path that let them regularly check the entire building. Thirty or so government functionaries were working in the building along with the President and his entourage.

A dozen armed men, soldiers in the TFG, were standing around in the lobby, so Jon and Lars had done what they weren't - keeping watch on the rest of the building. They were part of his concern - the likelihood of enemy sympathizers in the TFG ranks was high.

"Roger, I'm crossing the first floor, back right now," came Lars' reply.

Jon took the stairs at an easy jog, his weapon in hand, then circled to the front of the building.

Twenty feet higher didn't change the view much - dusty, colorful, dilapidated, and empty. No cars were using the road, and only a few people were walking the street.

A woman, covered head to toe by a burka, caught his attention. She had just walked past a stall and stopped. She looked around and scurried out of sight.

"Something is going down. Front of building. Civs seen hurrying out of way suddenly. Can't tell what's causing it."

Several seconds passed, and Jon was about to re-emphasize his observation before Lars' voice came across his ear plug. "Gotcha. Mickey, bring the car around to the back and prep for a fast exit. Sean, as soon as the car arrives, be ready to interrupt the prime and get him moving."

It was too late, though. Seconds later, Jon saw two men holding rockets step around opposite sides of the block.

"Rockets incoming," he shouted into the mic as he pulled his MP7 to his shoulder. He fired through the glass of the window at one of them a split second before he fired. The shots coming close made the man jerk and the rocket sailed into the sky. The second rocket was better aimed and shot out directly toward the front of the building.

It impacted with an explosion on the front doors, turning them into a storm of shards that shredded the soldiers and civilians lounging about the lobby. Jon felt the building tremble and vaguely heard screams of civilians. He turned and aimed at the man who had fired that RPG and fired a short burst.

The man's leg suddenly jerked off to the side as he tumbled over.

At that moment, four trucks filled with soldiers came roaring down the street toward Jon's building.

"Four trucks of enemy incoming," Jon yelled, into the mic. "Get Prime out of here!"

He fired several bursts at the closest truck and it suddenly veered off to the side, out of control, the front windshield shattered.

He ducked and ran back toward the stairs, and a second later the window he had been at exploded as the soldiers returned his fire. Wildly inaccurate, but with that many people shooting, it didn't much matter. Fortunately he was already thirty feet back and vaulting the railing to land half way down the stairs. Another vault and he was back in the first floor lobby.

He hadn't been able to do moves like that for ten years. At least not if he wanted to walk the next day. "_There are advantages to a young body like this._" The thought flitted across his mind as he unlatched two grenades. They were only flash-bangs, but they would slow down the soldiers who were beginning to jump from the trucks and charge toward the gaping area where the door used to be. A quick pair of tosses and the grenades were heading out the door.

"Prime in tow. Heading toward the back for pickup."

Sean's voice came over the mic and Jon turned to head back to join them. A quick glimpse of something caught his eye.

Black. Covered with debris and dust enough to almost hide it entirely. Lars.

Jon instead charged across the room, jumping over the bodies of the soldiers. He jerked Lars up and into a fireman's carry, not bothering to check if he was alive or dead. It wasn't stressed so much in the bodyguard world, but Jon couldn't leave him behind. Most of the company was ex-military and the ethos was still there - don't leave 'em behind. Even if it weren't, Jon couldn't leave someone behind.

He staggered across the room, and felt as much as heard the bullets begin to fly in the room as the attackers began to fill the room with bullets before they began their next rush. Jack felt something slam into his back like a hammer. He stumbled but kept going, his vest's back plate had done its job.

He made it through the hall, smacking Lars' feet on the walls as he lumbered toward the back exit. Several Somali civilians were running through the halls, trying to get out as well. He saw the last of the Somali president's guard exit the back door, but didn't see the Prime anywhere. He hoped Sean had gotten him out already. He hadn't gone past the meeting room on his way here to double-check.

He was relieved as he edged out the back door with his burden to see the armored car parked there, with Sean pushing the Prime into the back through the passengers side door.

Mickey, the driver, must have said something because Sean looked back at them and waved for them to hurry up as he got in and pushed the Prime over to give plenty of room.

"I'm hurrying! I'm hurrying," muttered Jack as he charged across the street, only able to do a lumbering jog with nearly two hundred and fifty extra pounds on his shoulders.

He heard shots off to his left but didn't bother to look. He found a little more speed, though. He dropped Lars to the side and thrust the limp weight halfway into the open door. Sean grasped Lars' vest and yanked as Jon picked up the man's legs and pushed.

Something slammed into his left arm and pulled him around. He could see a half dozen of the attackers shooting from the end of the building their vehicle was facing. The president's guard was pushing the president into his own armored limo and returned fire, forcing the attackers to dive for cover, but not before Jon felt something burn into his side and he spun around with the impact.

"Jon!"

Jon could hear the voice yell his name as he fell to the ground.

He hated getting shot. It wasn't a lethal wound, he could tell, but it still hurt.

Worst of all his left arm, wouldn't respond which made, "Umphf" he grunted as he half lifted himself up to his knees. Which made getting up a real bitch of a ... "Aagh," he groaned as he made it to his feet, using his right arm to pull himself up with the car door. A real bitch of a problem.

He was panting from the exertion of pulling himself up more than from the exertion of the run before it. He staggered into the dark interior as a bullet hit the inside of the open door where he had been leaning a moment before. He could feel Sean yank him further into the car while yelling "Go! Go! Go!"

The car's tires spun as it spun in a tight circle and roared down the back street, the acceleration and turn throwing Jon onto his wounded side. "Gah!" The inarticulate yell escaping his lips before he bit it back down. It wasn't the first time. He could overcome it.

The car suddenly slammed on its breaks, rolling Jon again, but this time he was able to keep the goan inside.

"They closed off this end," he heard Mickey shout from the front seat.

"Back up! Out the other end!"

Jack and the others hadn't particularly liked this meeting place for this reason, among others - the back only had the one street running along it, giving them only two options to exit. Which, of course, meant an enemy only had to block two routes.

The car threw itself into reverse, but with the warning Jon used the thrust to get himself on his feet. Well, crouched in the back with a foot on the floorboard and a knee on Lars' body. He hoped the guy would make it, but for all Jon knew at the moment, he was dead already.

He tugged on his gun's strap, pulling it up to his good arm and pointing it out the door that was slamming shut and bouncing open with the movement. The inside of the door looked sort of ripped up and he assumed it had messed up the latching system. Oh well.

The president's limo was already reaching the intersection they were now approaching, having driven the attackers that had been there back under cover. Part way through, though, a truck impacted it in a classic t-bone collision. The armored limo spun a little, but stayed upright and managed to keep going down the road, leaving the truck partially blocking the intersection behind it.

Mickey slammed the brakes and spun the wheel as their car skidded backwards around the truck and continued down the road away from the government building, following after the president's limo.

"Hold on!"

The warning barely registered and he felt a hand grab his vest from behind when the car braked again and spun until it was going forward. If Sean hadn't been holding on, Jon would have fallen completely out. As it was, only his upper body fell out, slamming his left side - again!

Jon swore and yelled out through the pain, "Don't you let go, soldier!"

Through the clouds of dust kicked up behind the car, he saw a truck following them, this one with a heavy machine gun mounted on its top. Waves of pain comparable to a goa'uld pain stick was burning in his side as the bumps of the road kept slamming his wounded arm and side against the car, but he managed to pull his gun with one hand to his shoulder, aimed back toward the following truck.

Accuracy would be shit, but maybe he'd get lucky.

The first burst probably hit the road, but Jon kept firing, trying to ride the bumps and the pain. Burst after burst of gunfire sprayed down the road, mostly hitting the road and buildings. He could see the gun on top of the truck shooting at them, but while it was much better braced than Jon, it still wasn't easy to aim with the truck's bouncing.

Jon couldn't have guessed how many more shots he had, but it couldn't have been many, when he suddenly saw one of the tires on the truck blow out. The truck veered from side to side, the driver frantically trying to gain control. He successfully brought it to a stop without flipping, but that was more than enough for the two armored cars to leave it behind in the dust.

A whoop of celebration came from the front, "You did it! Sean, I'm making a right, pull him in!"

A second later the car made a sharp right and Sean used the centrifugal force to help him pull Jon back in.

"Damn Jon! Nice job! Let's see how Lars is doing."

"Five minutes to safe house, Alpha. The rest of the team is ready and waiting."

Jon relaxed a little, the prime was safe and they'd be fine once they got in.

Sean leaned over him to check on on Lars.

A few seconds he spoke into his mic. "Lars has a strong heartbeat, but is unconscious. Lots of bleeding from the head. Jon has been shot in left arm and side. Get medical ready."

"We'll be waiting for you," came the reply.

Sean grinned at Jon.

"Whew! That was a busy one! What a blast!"

Jon chuckled through the pain. "Yeah it was. Yeah it was."

By God, he loved this shit! It was good to be back in action.


	8. Long Time No See!

**I had this one ready, just waiting to be double-checked before posting. I've been wanting to get to this point for a while!**

* * *

**March 26, 2009, 12 days later, Jon's apartment, Washington DC**

Jon winced as he sat down from his tenth random walk around his apartment. He had watched all the Simpsons episodes in the last week he was back in the United States, and he was crawling the walls.

He fingered his ribs, feeling the bandages that wrapped his chest. It looked like he was collecting some new scars to replace the ones he had lost when he had been cloned. He had sort of missed a couple of them.

The first bullet had hit his arm, ripping muscle, but fortunately missing the bone. The second had gone through the side of his chest, just barely missing his lung, broken two ribs, and ripped out a chunk of meat.

The arm was sore as hell, but mending surprisingly quickly. He wondered if his body had really slowed down its healing this much as he had gotten older. He had gotten similar wounds while on Stargate missions, and it was a month before he was moving it again like this. His early black ops were far enough back that he couldn't remember details of exactly how long he'd taken to recover back then.

He'd have something to tweak Jack's nose with again if they met. He smiled at that thought, but then jumped back up and walked into the kitchen and drank the rest of a glass of water.

The ribs were a lot slower, though the docs were happy with how it was healing, too.

He looked around the apartment with distaste. He knew he was grumpy at being on rest. It wasn't even two weeks since he had been shot and he was already crawling up the walls.

"It's a beautiful day outside, and I'm going out.

"'Stay home and take it easy', my ass," Jon muttered. "My ass is going crazy."

He pulled on some jogging clothes. He'd have to take it a bit easy, but it would be out of the house. He could hear a voice in his head saying 'You're gonna regret this," but he shoved it aside. That was just his 'old geezer' side talking again.

He didn't stretch for this, but just started off with an easy trot. Burning pinches radiated from his ribs, and his arm was tweaking him too, but it was minor pain. He slowly picked up speed as he ran through the DC streets.

The day was warm and sunny for March in DC, and there were a surprising number of joggers out for it being the middle of the day. It was only another mile to the Capitol building and Jon was feeling really good. That was where he usually let loose and really started pushing himself, trying to keep up an all-out run for a circuit of the Mall - he didn't think he'd be able to do that today, but dang it felt good to be moving again!

His mind drifted as he ran, this time drifting to the more recent events in Somalia instead of the more distant memories of his life. The other team had extracted their charge to France while he and Lars were cared for. The next day the President of Somalia had visited them personally, thanking them for their part in fighting the attackers.

Their manager, Jason Barnes, at Blackbriar had also called them to congratulate them all, and when they had arrived back in the US two days later had gathered all their debriefs. Jon was the last to give his debriefing, and afterward Jason had given him a special thanks - the rest of the team had spoke glowing words of praise for his actions - and given a special service bonus on top of their combat bonus.

He had also said Jon was on tap for another protection detail, this one in Afghanistan, and would be the team lead, despite his newness in the company.

Jon had pulled together as much info as they had, which wasn't much, unfortunately, since he would have prefered something to keep his mind occupied during this past week of recovery.

Nothing else he could do yet, except do his best to heal quickly.

He was halfway down the Mall at this point and his habits had taken over as his mind had wandered - he wasn't quite at full speed, but he was close to it, his ribs and arm burning as his body pushed itself in spite of the injuries.

Barely acknowledging the pain, Jon pounded on, sweat coating his body.

He rounded the Lincoln Memorial and headed back along the other side of the Reflecting Pool. He was zoned in, now, registering the lunchtime crowds only as moving obstacles as he pushed himself along - purposefully crushing down the pain and forcing his body beyond its pain inhibitions.

Lightning was lighting up his side, but his sense of it was distant. Stroller. Tour group. Group of three standing.

He barely registered the first, "Jack?" but the second one made it through to him, "Jack!"

It was the voice, more than the words which had caught him. He had pushed his thoughts of his old life away, but _that_ voice still caught him.

He skidded to a stop, turning his body around in mid-stride and crouching down to keep his balance as his momentum kept him sliding along for several feet.

The first figure to meet his eyes was the tall, dark, mountainous form of Teal'c. Jeans, t-shirt, and a ball cap did their best to help him blend in, but it could only do so much. The expression on his face was just as Jon remembered it - a minor uptick of an eyebrow and that was it. But Jon could read so much in that face, the face of his brother-in-arms. Surprise. Pleasure. A touch of uncertainty.

Daniel and Sam both looked around Teal'c mass. Sam's voice had been the one to stop him. Daniel's face was a classic study in confusion. Jon smirked a little - some things obviously hadn't changed.

Sam, though. He breathed heavily as he straightened up and …

He didn't know. The burst of pleasure at seeing 'T', the happy amusement at seeing Daniel, and then … Sam. He couldn't have said how he was feeling at seeing her.

Her face was also a picture of confusion, though it looked adorable on her. She did look good in dress blues. He noticed the leaves on her shoulder - a Lieutenant Colonel now? It was about time. A burst of pride made it through whatever other emotions were fighting it out. She was a damn good soldier. One of the best, and certainly the smartest.

"Oh, sorry," she said. "I thought you were..."

She faded off, and Jon could almost see the wheels whirring in her head. It wouldn't take her long to figure it out. Daniel was completely clueless. Teal'c had already figured it out and was striding forward.

"JonO'Neill," he rumbled. "It is good to see you … well."

The Jaffa's eyes flickered across Jon's body, noting the bandaged arm and pausing on his left side ribs.

Jon looked down. Dang. Blood was staining the grey t-shirt. He must have opened up the scabs and stitches there.

Oh well. He looked back at the Jaffa and resisted the urge to go hug the big guy. Instead he walked up and reached out his hand, clasping right forearms with the bigger man in a familiar grip.

"T! You're looking good. Still beating down the snakes?"

Daniel walked up beside Teal'c, confusion still evident.

"T?"

He almost laughed at the younger man's query. Well, technically Daniel was probably older than Jon, at least considering two of Jon's three ages.

Jon couldn't resist yanking the guy's chain a little.

"Spacemonkey! Long time no see!"

Daniel's eyes bugged out and a confused "Wha… Ja… who?"

Teal'c actually smiled a little, the stoic Jaffa's version of rolling on the floor laughing.

"Daniel Jackson. This is Jon O'Neill."

"Oh come on, buddy, I could have kept him wound up for at least another five minutes," Jon whined.

Teal'c eyebrow rose.

"Indeed."

Daniel still took a second to recall everything, but it finally clicked. "Oh! Jack's clone!" He clamped his mouth shut, looking around.

Jon felt a pang at the statement, but was also impressed - the Spacemonkey had actually thought about security considerations on his own! Not quickly enough to avoid blurting out highly classified information in public, but he at least realized what he had done without someone elbowing him.

"How are you?"

Daniel's tone was a formal, and it ripped a bit at Jon to hear the lack of their familiar tone and banter, but he understood.

"Ah, you know. Same old. Same old. Picked up a scratch," he gestured at his side, "but I'm doing well." He kept his tone flippant. It wasn't the time for anything serious.

Sam walked up on the other side of Teal'c, and Jon's voice faded away, looking at her. She looked as good as she always had, and Jon could feel a bit of a clenching in his gut, but it wasn't debilitating. He could tell from her expression that she knew he wasn't merely a person with a few memories tacked on. He shouldn't have been surprised. She was the smartest person on the planet, after all. A freaking national treasure all by herself. It wouldn't take her more than a bit of thought to realize that. He wondered how much he had thought about him.

Dang. She had last seen him in the body of a fourteen year old, and any thoughts of him wouldn't be the type he wanted.

"Hello, Sir."

Yeah. She knew exactly who he was. He closed his eyes - finally a lance of pain went through him, a clear reaction to seeing her.

"Carter."

He paused for a moment, just saying her name to her had rocked him. Damn. He should have called her Sam. He … he was getting too serious.

He crossed his arms and rocked back on his heels, pulling out his standard insouciance.

"So what brings you all here to DC? Should I get ready for Snakes to come calling."

From his talk with Jack last year he knew Apophis had fallen, and the Goa'uld in general had been pretty well stopped. There had been another threat Jack had edged around, some sort of robots it sounded like, but that had been defeated as well.

"No Sir, things are calm on that front. We're dealing with more domestic politics."

Jon realized they wouldn't tell him anything, even if something really was going on, but the way she had said it didn't sound like it was covering over some world-shattering threat. But on the other hand, she was covering ...

"_That's not my life any more,_" he told himself. "_Leave it behind._"

"Good to hear the galaxy is safe," Jon replied and Daniel gave a wry grimace. Jon pierced the man with his gaze, and Daniel looked away, annoyed. "Well, I guess as safe as it ever is," Jon finished.

"We are also here to see the monuments your country has built to remember its heroes." Jon could feel himself relax at Teal'c formal tones. It was so familiar.

"Well, I certainly don't want to interrupt that!"

He clasped hands with the Jaffa. "Take care, my friend." It was spoken softly, but it hit Jon like a bus. He pinched his lips together, keeping the rush of emotions from surfacing, but he stepped in to the man and clapped his shoulder. "You too, my friend."

He stepped back, emotions reined in tight again.

He held out his hand to Daniel and they shook. "Enjoy those rocks and books." Daniel's face was again uncertain how to react, but it quickly settled into a smile. "Thanks. Watch yourself better next time," Daniel nodded at Jon's side. Jon just smirked.

He turned to Sam, but didn't hold out his hand. He wasn't sure if touching her would be ok, or if that would break his control.

"Take care, Sir."

He nodded. "You too ... Sam." Oh how he loved being able to say that name.

She glanced down. He kicked himself. "_Too familiar, Jon. Don't make it awkward for her._"

"See y'all again sometime," Jon called as he turned away and begin jogging away.

It wasn't with the same speed, and now he just wished he could get back to the apartment and sit down with a beer. His side was throbbing and his arm ached. His head hurt. His heart was twisting.

Well his life certainly wasn't easy, but he had survived so far. Things hurt, but apparently they were healing.

Even if the wounds might bleed a bit every now and then, he knew they were healing up.

It was gonna leave a scar, though.

* * *

"Spacemonkey!" Jack called out in pleasure at seeing his team again. They hadn't been able to get together for a while now, but the situation with the Ori had gotten them to Washington to brief Homeworld Security. That was done and now he had been able to get them together for a private meal at his house. It was almost like the old team nights.

Daniel gave a weird expression before grinning, "Jack! Long time no see!"

Sam snorted and it was Jack's turn to have a puzzled expression. He shrugged it off and welcomed them in.

"Beer! Pizza! Cake! We've got all the essentials of life here."

The evening flowed almost like they had never been apart. Laughing and chatting as they had on so many other occasions. They wound up in his living room, spread around, relaxing while watching Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom. Daniel was complaining loudly to Teal'c. Jack could tell Teal'c was thoroughly enjoying it - the eyebrow gave it away.

He had Sam next to him, only an inch separating them. He was feeling good. The Ori were a serious threat, but he knew they would beat it. Maybe then he could retire and then … Sam.

"Sir," Carter started, but he interrupted her, "Ah! Right now, it's Jack."

She gave a smile and he would have sworn her eyes somehow actually twinkled.

"Yes sir. Ok. Jack. Today we, uh."

Jack turned to face her, this uncertainty was unusual. It must be something serious.

She gathered her breath a bit. "We ran into Jon today on the Mall. Jon O'Neill," she offered for clarification, though he hadn't needed it.

He nodded carefully. "Yup. He's living in the area."

"You knew?"

He took a swallow of his beer. "Yeah. He came out of hiding last year. Re-entered society and all that. Got the military to help with a few details."

She glanced at him sharply. Yeah, she could read him pretty well.

"I got to thinking about him after he ran into Janet a couple years ago. I hadn't seriously thought about him since he left for school, but I got to wondering about how much of your memories and personality they put into him."

Jack winced. He hadn't thought about it much, on purpose. It had been obvious to him, anyway, right when he had first seen the clone. It wasn't just memories made available to a person - the clone had been him. It still unsettled his stomach to think of another him existing.

"So what did you come up with?"

"I couldn't come up with anything. I didn't have enough data to form a firm conclusion."

Jack almost couldn't ask, but forced himself ahead. "You've met him now. Any conclusions?"

She fiddled a little with her beer. "I think … I think Loki put a lot of your personality into him, not just memories."

Jack merely took another swallow from his bottle. The beer had suddenly become tasteless.

She was looking at him expectantly and he finally caved in, sighing. "Yeah. That Loki made a real mess. I thought he might be pretty … complete, but letting him start over was the only thing I could think of. Didn't work smoothly, but I'm not sure anything would have."

He was uncomfortable with it, but he still couldn't think of another way it could have happened.

Sam said softly, "It must have been rough for him to give up everything he knew."

Yeah. Jack was exactly, precisely sure of how he would have handled it. Exactly as Jon had. They were the same person in two different bodies, and it dug at Jack deeply to think of himself out there, alone without ... So he didn't think about it.

"But he's not you."

Sam's words surprised him.

"Um, yeah, he is."

She shook her head.

"No. Maybe, just maybe, he started out almost exactly like you, but he became a different person. He's similar, but he's not you. At least not any more. The brain changes a lot during the teen years, and he had entirely different experiences influencing those changes. He might still have your memories, but you don't have another 'you' out there, Jack."

She looked at him, and he could feel the reassurance she was trying to give him. She had figured out how much it was bothering him and she was trying to set his mind at ease. He wasn't sure, but if Sam said so, then it was almost certainly true. He felt the knot in his gut relax a little. Still weirded him out to have someone with his memories out there, but that wasn't quite as bad as having another Jack living out there.

He smirked at her, trying to let her know he appreciated it. "That's good to know."

They went back to watching the video, Daniel's shriek of outrage making them both chuckle.

A few seconds passed and Sam leaned over against Jack and nudged him.

"I'm not sure the universe could take two of Jack O'Neill anyway."

Jack gave a snort of amusement and nudged back, keeping contact with her arm as they settled back together. For the moment it would have to be enough. But someday.

"Thanks … Sam," he said softly.

"Always … Jack."


	9. Friends and Soldiering On

**This is a big one, and I would like to have posted it in chunks, but it would break the flow up too much and some of the chapters would have been pretty small. So, you guys all get an extra big helping of Jon today!**

**I realize that I've been updating almost every other day, but this is bringing me close to the end of where I have already written. These chapters have just needed some quick editing and double-checking before posting. I have a little bit more already written out, but once I catch up to where I've written, the posts will slow down a little. Sorry.**

**Don't worry, though! We still have two or maybe three more chapters before we catch up with my writing.**

**So, enjoy a double dose of Jon in this chapter!**

* * *

Jon laid back on his recliner, his beer almost untouched. It was well after midnight, but his mind was still spinning; he wondered if this was what it was like for Carter, but all the time.

He had showered and redressed his ribs after he had gotten home, and then wandered aimlessly through the little apartment.

His life, what it was, wasn't, what he had and didn't have. The thoughts chased each other around and around.

It hadn't hurt like he thought it was going to. Oh it had hurt all right, but it was he sharp twinge of an old wound getting poked. He could still remember what it had felt like a few years ago - the black anger and crushing despair that would roll over him at times.

Here he had met his old friends. He had met Sam. He had talked with them; with her. And it hadn't crushed him. It hurt, but he had come out fine. He had realized that he missed them, but it wasn't that gaping agony he had expected. This was something he could get past.

What did that mean?

Was he not really Jack?

He was a clone, he knew, but he was Jon. Or, Jack. Jon was Jack, right?

Bzzzzzt.

His phone buzzed again with another text. They had been coming in batches since he had gotten back from his run, but he hadn't felt like dealing with whoever it was.

Right before he left for Somalia, he had finally gone out for a night with Erin, one of the admins at Blackbriar. It had been fun, and she would have been happy to finish the night at her apartment, but she was tall and bleached blond. Jon had been afraid he'd be thinking of … well, that he wouldn't have been thinking of her.

Erin had been interested in continuing things, if the stream of texts from her afterward had been any indication. She had changed jobs to a similar company based in Baltimore, and had tried to get him to come too, but he wasn't about to chase a girl around like that. While his body might be eighteen, sort of, and his resume said he was twenty three, he was still close to fifty in his mind. Was he 'over' Sam? He wasn't interested in texting Erin if it was her.

Work, maybe? Well, not this late.

Jack could probably get this number - he'd gotten the phone's plan under Jon O'Neill. He was sure Jack had the resources to track him down. Probably not Jack, though. Too late and Jack wasn't a 'text' sort of person.

Jon was using it more often thanks to Cassie. They had texted or emailed a couple times a week, though he hadn't told her he was overseas or that he had been wounded. She was just a kid and didn't need to be worrying about him.

His Blackbriar team had the number, though they weren't a long-term team and hadn't bonded to the casual conversation level yet. SG1 had been special even among the tight-knit clan that was the SGC. Most of the teams had been solid units and many stayed together even outside the mountain, but SG1 had been tighter still.

He wondered if it was a unique thing that they had built, never again to be experienced, or if one of his teams at Blackbriar would become like that. He doubted it.

Bzzzzzt.

He snatched it up. He needed a distraction.

A score of texts scrolled up along with a couple missed-call notices from when he had been running and in the shower.

Cassie! He smiled.

It looked like she was done with her last paper. He was so proud of the kid!

Ready for Spring Break, and … coming out to DC to visit with friends. He wondered if those friends were the SG-1 team. Probably so.

The next few texts were airplane travel texts. Wondering if he was in town. Looks like she had landed a half hour ago.

Uh oh. She couldn't contact her ride.

Jon dialed her number.

"Hi, this is Cassie." She sounded a little frazzled. She hadn't done much traveling on her own before now.

"Hey, it's Jon. Saw your ride couldn't be contacted. Need a lift?"

"Yeah. I'm really sorry to contact you so late, but, um yeah, Nellie isn't picking up. She was supposed to be coming in earlier today and pick me up, but she's not picking up. You're the only person I know out here who might be awake this late."

He smirked at that. "Yeah, my older version probably falls asleep by six or seven these days."

"Well, um, yeah, it is after one in the morning. I hated to bother you, but you are all I could think of."

"Ha! Well, I'm only fifteen minutes from Reagan and I have a spare room here. It's no problem at all."

"I can get a ho - "

Jon cut her off. She could get a ride to a hotel from the airport, but she might not realize that, and he wasn't about to tell her. With her slightly odd upbringing, there were still a few odd gaps in her experience and knowledge. That, and she was only eighteen.

"Nope! I won't hear of it. You can stay here tonight and everything will get straightened out in the morning. I make a mean set of pancakes, you know. It has a secret ingredient that makes them the best."

"Beer!"

"Awww," Jon whined as he pulled on his shoes, "someone snitched on me!"

"Well, the 'snitcher' also said they really are the best, too."

Jon laughed as he headed out the door.

"Alright kiddo, I'll be there in fifteen minutes."

"Thanks, uh, Jon."

He jogged out to his car, feeling better.

He might not know exactly who he was these days, but, well, he wasn't alone. He knew his team were still friends even if it was awkward, and Cassie was still a friend even if they weren't exactly the same "Uncle Jack" and little girl that they used to be.

He smiled as he started the car to go help a friend. Perhaps for the first time it was finally sinking in.

Life was going to have its bumps and scars, but it was going to be all right.

It was going to be all right.

* * *

Jon pulled up in front of Cassie and hopped out. At nearly one thirty in the morning, the concourse was nearly empty.

She looked at him oddly and stared at his car.

"What?"

"I, I nothing. I just didn't think of you with a, a car."

Jon smirked. He had picked up a barely-used Mustang with his Blackbriar signing bonus. It … well, he was a bit surprised himself that he hadn't gone for a truck.

"It's my mid-life crisis car," he said with a straight face.

Cassie goggled at him for a moment and then doubled over in laughter. "You … Your!" She couldn't get her breath for long enough to speak and when she finally managed to straighten up and look at him, he put on a neutral face and raised one eyebrow at her. She lost it again, leaning back over a concrete barrier block to support herself as she held her sides, laughter filling the area.

"_I learned from the best, Teal'c,_" he thought.

She had gone through a long, hard trip, and he would take care of her. She was his friend, and it was his pleasure.

He popped her bags into his trunk and she was down to giggles when he closed it up.

She walked over and hugged him. "Oh god! You always could," she giggled again. "Thank you so much, Jon!"

"Ya sure. You betcha. It's great to see you again!" That was an understatement - someone that really knew him and wasn't awkward. It was worth more than he could have said even if he tried.

"You've got to be wiped out, let's get you back so you can rest!"

"I can't believe I'm so tired - all I did was sit!"

Jon grinned. This was definitely her first major airline traveling trip.

"So you still haven't heard from your friend?"

"Nope. I'm starting to get worried."

Jon shrugged. "Most likely her plane was delayed somewhere. She's probably sitting on the tarmac somewhere cursing a dead phone. You'll hear from her in the morning. You might be able to check on it online, too."

"I hope so." She still sounded uncertain and Jon wracked his brain for something else to distract her as they pulled away.

"Oh! I ran into part of the old team while I was jogging today." He was going to make it humorous for her, get her to laugh. He mostly related Daniel's reactions and soon the car was filled with her laughter.

It was nearly three by the time they called it a night. Jon made sure she had a bit of time to decompress as he caught up on her college stories. She was a bit lonely, he suspected, but was dealing with it by helping others - this Nellie was apparently from a poor, inner-city family, but had gotten into Stanford with a full ride by winning a science fair competition. She had a hard time fitting with the wealthier students, and Cassie had befriended her.

Jack was fairly bursting with pride at how Cassie was developing into a wonderful young woman.

He laid back on his bed a bit exhausted and sore, but with a smile on his face.

By seven he was up, straightening up the house. Decades of early mornings still got him up at the crack of dawn. Around nine he started hearing Cassie's phone ringing, though she was apparently sleeping through it. After the third call in five minutes, he sneaked into the room. She was curled up in the bed, completely dead to the world while her phone sang from her purse.

He picked up her phone and swiped it to answer the call, but didn't speak until he had closed the door to her room.

"Hey, this is a friend of Cassie's. She's sleeping right now."

"Oh. Um, ok. Sorry. Um."

The voice on the other end was young and female, probably African American, by Jon's guess.

Jon smiled to himself, guessing as to what might be running through her mind right now.

"I picked her up last night and she crashed at my place. Are you Nellie?"

"Yeah. My plane was delayed like crazy and my phone was dead, and my luggage was lost, and it had my charging cables and … yeah. It's been crazy."

Jon felt a pang of sympathy. She probably hadn't done much traveling herself, either.

"Where are you now?"

"Well, I arrived here in DC and I took the bus over to our hotel, but she isn't here and I couldn't reach her, and Cassie and I were going, well, I mean Cassie and I need to," Jon interrupted her rambling.

"I can pick you up and bring you over here if you want so you and Cassie can connect up. What hotel?"

"Um, Skyline Hotel?"

Jon blinked. "Ok, you're actually only about three blocks away from me. I can pick you in five."

"No, no. I'll walk. I just have my backpack, thanks to the airline losing my bags. I can do three blocks faster. I don't want to bother you."

Jon suspected she was a bit embarrassed and didn't push her. They were just kids, let 'em do whatever. He gave her his address and she said she could see the way there on her phone.

Jon started putting together breakfast. He didn't have much, but he liked his bacon and had gotten plenty for his recuperation time. He had already changed his bandages, re-wrapped his ribs, and replaced the bandage on his arm. A plain, grey t-shirt and jeans was as far as he had dressed up.

The pancakes had just been mixed and the coffee brewed. The bacon was beginning to sizzle in the oven when he heard the knock at the door. That would be Nellie.

He padded over and opened it up to see a tall, thin girl at first looking hesitant.

"You must be Nellie? I'm Jon. Come on in"

Her eyes went wide as the looked him up and down, mouth slightly open. He grinned a little and gestured for her to come in, breaking her spell.

"Yeah! I'm Nellie. _You're_ Jon?"

Jon raised his eyebrow at her and she stammered.

"I, she, well, I mean, she mentioned you and said we might hook up, er, I mean, you know, meet you if you were in town. But I didn't, or she didn't know if you were. In town. I didn't know you were so, I mean, it sounded like you were old. Not on the phone. Cass. I thought you were old from what she said." She was beginning to blush even through her dark complexion. Jon enjoyed himself and merely looked at her with a tiny uptick of the corner of his mouth.

"She didn't say you were old. I mean, not that you are old, I mean you're young and really, and um, not old."

"I'm glad we've settled that I'm not old," Jon said dryly.

The girl winced and looked around desperately, anywhere but at him, finally getting her mouth to shut up.

This was one of the things he really prefered about people his own age. Or, well, people who were older than him. Or, whatever. Even at eighteen, these were still kids in a lot of ways. Cassie was a bit of an exception with her circumstances maturing her quickly.

"Jon?"

The sleepy voice came from down the little hall to the two bedrooms.

"Who're you talkin' to?"

Nellie's eyes went wide as Cassie walked out of the guest bedroom wearing a long t-shirt and a pair of sleeping shorts. She was rubbing her eyes, not yet fully conscious. Nellie looked back and forth between them, mouth making an "O".

He knew exactly what was running through Nellie's mind.

He decided to cause trouble. He hadn't had any System Lords to mouth off to in a while, and he figured he was well behind on his quota of trouble-making.

He walked over to Cassie, putting his body between Cassie and Nellie, and wrapped the girl in a hug.

"Mornin' sunshine. Welcome back to the land of the living." He dropped a kiss on top of her head and Cassie wrapped her arms around him and hummed into his chest.

"You're making breakfast too? You're too good to me."

The words were mumbled a little, but Jon figured Nellie would be able to hear them, and he chuckled to himself. This would be a good one.

"Anything for my girl," he said with a little extra squeeze. "Hey, look who's here."

Cassie pulled back and looked up at him with confusion. Definitely not a morning person, Jon decided. Her mind was definitely not running at full speed.

Jon turned them so Cassie could see Nellie standing there. Nellie's eyes were the size of saucers and her mouth was hanging open.

"Nellie's plane finally made it in."

Cassie squealed and jumped across the room to envelop Nellie with a hug. "Where were you? I tried to call you, but …"

Jon grinned and headed back to the kitchen to finish making breakfast.

Chaos. Confusion. Misunderstanding. His job here was done.

Twenty minutes later they were sitting around his little table finishing off the pancakes. Nellie had been a little subdued, it seemed to Jon, but Cassie had made up for it, chatting and making adjusted plans. Jon had stayed out of it, enjoying the company.

He was surprised at how good it felt. Maybe he had been alone too long and was missing the regular interaction with friends. The people at work were acquaintances, but he hadn't been able to share much of anything with them, and the distance had kept him from making friends there, even among his security team, though they were his buddies.

He stood up and excused himself. His run yesterday had convinced him that he was good enough to operate, and if he had to stay in here by himself for another day he was probably going to go nuts. The girls had their day planned out, and he would head into the office.

He'd start collecting intel on his next job. He'd try to be a bit more open and maybe start building some new friends.

It was a step toward building a new life.

Life was looking good.

* * *

Cassie had noticed Nellie was a little quiet, but figured it was tiredness and being in a stranger's house. She had rearranged their plans so that today would have more lazy sorts of activities so they would both be able to recuperate from their extra stressful trips.

Jon excused himself and left.

As soon as he left the room, Nellie's hand darted across and grabbed her own.

"Cassie," she hissed! "_That_ is Jon? Oh my god! Why didn't you tell me he was so hot?! Girl, you're banging _that_ and never told me? You made Jon sound like an older guy, friend-of-your-mom sort of thing!"

Cassie was shaking her head. "No! No, I'm not sleeping with him." She knew how sexy he was, but had managed to ignore that. She had certainly enjoyed nuzzling into that chest, though, this morning, but, no, no. She wasn't interested in him like that. "He's … an old friend, that's all."

Nellie's eyes narrowed at her, and Cassie kicked herself. Her little pause in trying to describe Jon's odd relationship was being taken entirely the wrong way.

"Uh huh," Nellie looked at her, disbelief written all over her face. "You come out of his bedroom, he's all huggy-luvy-dovy, and you're saying you didn't spend all night screwing?"

Cassie was hearing alarm bells ringing. If Jon heard this, she would just die! He was almost fifty years old inside that body and she was just his niece, to him. That would totally skeeve him out!

"No! I was completely way too tired last night and he has a sec-"

Nellie interrupted her with a laugh. "Girl, if I were in that guy's bed, it wouldn't matter if I were dead! I'd still jump him so fast!"

"Shhhh!" Cassie gestured, her face going red. "Quiet! No. He has a second bedroom. I slept there! By myself! Completely alone!"

Nellie looked at her with skepticism that shifted into a dawning shock.

"You're serious! You're way too red to be lying! You mean you haven't hooked up with him yet?"

"No!" Cassie rubbed her face. She could feel the heat. She'd certainly noticed Jon was super cute, but had pushed that way down. "I'm like, like, his little sister. It's, it's not like that."

Nellie was looking at her with pity, now.

"You been spendin' way too much time with your books if you can look at _that_ like a brother."

Cassie opened her mouth, but Nellie waved her hand placatingly. "I believe you, I believe you. You're too red to be lying," she repeated. Cassie groaned and flopped her head into her arms on the table.

"Fine, fine. So, since you're an idiot and aren't banging that smokin' hot piece of meat, do you know what the bandages are for?"

Cassie's embarrassment got sidetracked by the apparent non sequitor. "Bandages," she asked blankly. "What bandages?" The words were muffled by her arms.

A grunt of disgust came from Nellie. "You really weren't checking him out, were you? His left bicep is all wrapped up, and I'm pretty sure his ribs are wrapped up. I could see the wrap under that t-shirt. He does fill it out thoroughly."

Cassie looked up. She had to agree. Jon certainly did fill out the shirt nicely. He was more buffed than Uncle Jack. She wracked her memory, trying to picture what Jon had looked like at the table. She had been so focused on Nellie and hers plans she hadn't paid much attention. Maybe … yeah, maybe there had been a bandage there under the sleeve of the t-shirt.

"Jon!" She knew he did security work, but he had never mentioned exactly what sort, and knowing Jack's personality she suddenly felt a sense of dread that it wasn't just night watchman sort of security.

"Yeah," came a querying reply.

"Get in here, right now!"

A second later Jon poked his head around the doorway with an odd look on his face.

"You sounded just like your mother!"

A flash of pleasure filled her but she didn't let him distract her.

"Sit," she ordered.

Jon suddenly looked very nervous and slowly edged into the room. "Whyyyyyy?"

Cassie was going to know for sure about this. She could see the edge of the bandage and could tell something was under the t-shirt. She stood up and grabbed his elbow, pushing him into his empty chair.

"You got hurt. Let me see it."

Jon's eyes went wide and she could see him start to deflect.

"What? You want to kiss my boo-b-"

"Now," she barked. She wasn't going to let him get away with this.

Jon wrinkled up his face, and she heard Nellie giggle in the background, but she continued to stare at him. He reluctantly pulled up his sleeve to reveal a bandage that wrapped from the middle of his bicep up to his armpit. She could tell from the amount of padding under the wrap that whatever it was must be big.

She shook her head. "Nope. Take off your shirt. I want to get a good look."

Jon gave her another odd look and she could hear Nellie muffle a laugh, but ignored it. She recognized the possible double-meaning, but set it aside. She needed to see what was wrong and Jon wasn't about to distract or deflect her.

He finally gave out a huff of air in resignation and began pulling off his shirt. She could tell he was favoring his left side, using his right hand more.

She noted with detachment that, yeah, his body was totally and completely smoking hot, as Nellie would say. She thought she heard her friend give a hum at the sight, but she was checking out the bandages. There was a large pad along his left side, and the way the ribs were wrapped, she suspected they were cracked or broken.

She started unwrapping his chest, definitely noticing his body as she had to lean in close to his chest to reach around his body to unwrap the bandage, but she shoved the feeling down, again. Finally she gently pulled off the padding and she heard Nellie gasp. A deep, red wound with stitches holding it together ran for over eight inches from front to back. She was certain it was a bullet wound.

She fixed him with a glare. "And you were going to mention this to me just when?"

He gave a shrug. "I've gotten a lot worse. I was fine. Another week and I'll be back to normal."

She couldn't believe Jon! She smacked his chest. Hard. "You got shot, and if it had been an inch further over, you'd still be in the hospital trying to recover from a shredded lung!"

He gave her another shrug, saying nothing.

She pursed her lips and checked the wound again. The stitches had obviously been bleeding recently. A comment from last night jogged her memory. "You went running yesterday! With this?"

She started hitting his chest. "What. Were. You! Thinking?!" Her voice was rising, but she couldn't stop herself.

He suddenly caught her hand with his and it occurred to her that hitting his chest while he had broken ribs probably wasn't the best thing to do.

And he hadn't even flinched.

"It's all right. I get banged up a little from time to time. I've always come through all right before, and I'll be fine. This is nothing compared to what I used to do. This is fluffy bunny love compared to Jaffa. I'll be fine."

He was looking at her with the most serious expression she had ever on his face. He looked so much like Uncle Jack - he _sounded_ so much like Uncle Jack - that she nodded, accepting his word.

She gritted her teeth, and wondered how her mom had handled this. From what she had heard from her mom, all the teams that went through the Stargate had been wounded a lot worse than this. But her mom had always put it in such clinical terms that it had never dawned on her exactly what it meant.

More softly.

"Can I see your arm too?" She had forgotten for a moment that he was Uncle Jack inside, and now that it had been so forcefully demonstrated to her again, she couldn't order him around.

He let go of her hand and shifted around so his left side was easier for her to reach.

She almost couldn't bear to see this damage, too, and her fingers shook a little, hovering above the wrapping.

"_Come on Cassie. You're studying medicine, and you've already seen the worst,_" she encouraged herself.

Nellie came over and helped her unwrap his arm, and she appreciated her friend's support.

The arm was much better on the surface, but the bullet had made a hole through the bottom of Jon's bicep. It looked like it had probably missed the bone. Jon had big biceps.

The stitches here hadn't bled, and it was looking very good.

"How long ago?"

"Twelve days. The ribs were re-stitched nine days ago. Today the arm stitches get taken out."

Cassie raised her eyebrows. These were healing really well, then. The arm stitches could have been taken out a couple days ago, and the ribs probably would have been fine to take out today if they hadn't been re-pulled yesterday.

She hummed. He really did need to take better care of these, but … she couldn't bring herself to scold him right now.

Instead, "Well, let me re-bandage these a bit more smoothly. You doing it one-handed has got to be tough."

There was another of those damned little shrugs of his. An inch further over and he would have been in ICU. Six inches further over and the bullet would have gone through his heart. And he just gives little shrugs!

Nellie was behind Jon. Cassie saw her wince and run her fingers lightly over Jon's back. Cassie stepped around behind Jon and saw that his back was a mass of mostly-faded bruising.

She and Nellie met each others' eyes and Cassie could see a shocked awe in her friend's eyes, but it quickly turned to sympathy as they shared the moment. Nellie reached out and squeezed her arm softly. The touch reassured her that she wasn't alone and that helped her gather her strength again.

She schooled her voice to casualness, "And this bruising back here?"

The shrug.

Damn that shrug!

"The plate stopped it, like it was designed to do. Just left a bruise."

Cassie shook her head. "All right. Where are your bandages?"

"Bathroom. Under the sink."

She jogged around to his bathroom, and there were bandages, all right. And IV bags. Needles. Gauze. Wrapping. A sewing kit. A half dozen types of bandages. Medical disinfectant. Sterile tweezers and a scalpel. Pain killers that she knew weren't supposed to exist outside a hospital.

She gathered her supplies and went back. Nellie was asking about what else he had done if this wasn't so serious.

Jon was looking at Cassie with an expression that shouted loud and clear, "_This is _my _life. Not a word about that stuff in the bathroom._"

She gave him a little nod and started laying out the padding and wrap.

She had never seen a side like this of Uncle Jack. She had seen him relaxed, full of jokes and laughing plenty of times. She had seen him a couple times in his full combat commander type of role - brilliant, confident, decisive, in charge. She had never seen him wounded like this. And soldiering on.

Jack answered Nellie with a flippant reference to some time in the military, and then started into an animated rendition of some crazy mission that had Nellie laughing and herself smiling.

She finished the arm and then started the ribs. She knew the wrap had to be tight to support everything together so it wouldn't shift. She also knew that wrapping it that tight must hurt.

Jon never flinched. Never paused in his story. He held his arms up like it didn't bother his arm or his ribs to stretch them. The laughter and humor in his face as he spun out yarn after yarn, each more unbelievable than the last, never faltered in the slightest.

When she finished, he tested it a little, casually as if there wasn't a twinge anywhere, and declared it to be a heck of a lot better than the slap-dash job he had done by himself.

Nellie had invited him to come with them today on their sightseeing. Jon had agreed on the condition that they get some ice cream afterward.

What kind of person was this Jon O'Neil?


	10. It's getting dark

**For those who don't want to check the dates, this is about a month after the last chapter.**

**I've built up a bit of a buffer again, so hopefully we'll get some chunks double-checked and uploaded in relatively rapid succession. That's my excuse for not updating for a bit - edit stuff to make it legible enough to post or write new stuff? I did some new stuff. Now time for posting that stuff!**

**This chapter is a bit more action oriented, and the next chapter will be pretty action-packed too. Once again, I hope it's comprehensible for everyone! Let me know!**

* * *

**April 27, 2009, Safi Landmark Hotel, Kabul, Afghanistan**

Jon's hotel room was covered with maps and building diagrams. When his radio went off, he lifted a building diagram to root around for the wayward object.

"Yeah, Mick?"

"Prime is heading home now. We're taking route three. Green Zone arrival should be twenty minutes. Hotel arrival five after."

"Acknowledged. Route three. Green Zone in twenty. Home in twenty five."

"Confirmed. See you soon."

Jon checked the city map for Kabul, confirming that his memory of route three was correct. It was. He went back to the building map he had been checking before.

Klause Holtz was a VP setting up business in Afghanistan. Mostly textiles, but other manufacturing was also possible from what Jon had overheard. Afghanistan as the next India - tons of low-cost labor available.

Jon shook his head. If they wanted to waste their money on the effort, that was their business, but the country had never been particularly stable, and was even more phenomenally unstable because there was a freaking war going on!

He shook his head. He didn't have to solve the country's problems. He just had to keep his prime safe. Well, the prime and his mistress. Officially she was just an administrative aide, but Blackbriar's contract had specifically included her to receive round-the-clock protection as well. She rarely left the hotel's corporate headquarters area, though, so he usually only needed one person on her at a time.

Klause though - he was running all over the place talking with community leaders and mayors all over the country. Jon traced out several routes away from their next meeting location.

The team had been here for two weeks, and the Prime had arrived four days ago, immediately jumping into a flurry of meetings. Jon was getting worn out keeping up with the sudden changes and additions to plans. There hadn't been any attacks aimed at their Prime yet, but there had been several attacks in the vicinity, and the entire team was at high alert.

Routes. Alternate routes. Intel on recent attacks. Roadside bomb intel. Local informants to groom. Payoffs for information from locals. Building schematics where they were available. Pre-scouting locations.

Jon felt more alive than he had in years.

Some of the others in his team were a little miffed that a new guy to the company had gotten a commanding position in a high-profile security job, but Jon was bringing them around. He had done this sort of thing for decades even if they didn't know it. He could feel the team congealing.

Mickey was his driver, and Jon had felt pleased when he had gotten the guy who had driven them to safety back in Somalia - a savant with any vehicle, and just as importantly thought quickly and reacted well.

Jiminez called Jimmy, 'Jock', and Brock were one of his teams - Aztec Team. Jimmy was ex-special forces and all whipcord lean hispanic at forty something. He was still skeptical of Jon's ability, constantly alert to catch mistakes, but wasn't resentful. He seemed to be coming to trust Jon's decisions more quickly, and ran Jock and Brock like a machine. Jock and Brock were twin brothers, both massive ex-college football players, and Jon would swear they were telepathic.

Mark, Jason, and Trisha formed his other team - Eagle Team. Jon had grimaced when he heard the name 'Trisha', remembering his brief attempt at high school, but she was ex-army and a tank of a woman with light ebony skin that was darkening quickly in the Afghani sun. He liked her - she had a cunning, dry humor that Jon appreciated. Mark, a jarhead and another long-time employee of Blackbriar, was leading Eagle Team, and had Jason and Trisha well. Mark was the biggest point of conflict. He clearly resented a newbie to the company getting the command of this operation. They had butted heads a few times, but Jon had dealt with these sorts of egos for long enough that he was able to handle the man's antagonistic attitude and redirect it into a job well done.

Mary and 'Trixie' were the security for the Prime's mistress. A less unlikely pair Jon would have never picked. Mary was military to her toes, hard-core, hard-ass, and a hell of a marksman. Roxanne, though she went by Trixie, was the complete opposite: brightly colored hair, constantly chewing and popping gum, and had a punk, bubblehead persona perfected. She was sharp as a razor blade, though, and carried more knives on her than he could count. Jon was pretty sure they were lovers, though he didn't poke his nose in. They were like Jock and Brock - a long-time team that seemed to read each others minds.

Now, if their Prime would slow down his hectic pace of travel and meetings, Jon might get some sleep. He had stayed up most of the night gathering intel on tomorrow's meeting location - a small town northeast of Jalalabad that already had a small textiles factory.

Roads. Reported hostile activity in the area. The town was rumored to be pretty sympathetic to the remnants of the Taliban. Also a central location of a dozen small poppy fields. The meeting building was a warren of small office rooms that would have made a great maze. Literally. Jon was pretty sure the blueprints weren't completely accurate either.

It was a chaotic mess of a situation. In a fight, that was his preferred situation, at least if he couldn't have overwhelming firepower on his side. This was protection, though - a different sort of challenge. He had some good ideas, though. He had the trip plan mostly put together.

His door opened. "Sir? Aztec is in. Prime is settled in his office. Miss Annabelle is currently with him. They'll have dinner in. She's probably getting a snack now, though."

Jon looked up with a smirk. Trisha was at his door, holding a cup of coffee. She rarely passed a chance to make fun of the Prime and mistress, though never in their hearing.

At five feet eleven inches, she was as tall as most of the guys, and a solid hundred and sixty pounds. She'd served a tour with the Army, done three years in professional MMA, and then gone into protection work. Hand to hand, she was brutal, able to take him three out of four times if she could clinch with him, despite his greater strength and weight. He could have prefered that she were a better shot, but she was good enough. He'd see about suggesting that she improve her marksmanship at some point. Make sure your subordinates leave you better than when they met you.

"Gotta admit, it's nice when both primes stick so close together. They're probably thinking of us, trying to make our lives easier."

Trisha snorted and took a sip of coffee.

"We're going to grab dinner together after Aztec gets cleaned up. You coming?"

Jon nodded. He was specifically working on building bonds with them, and meals together were part of that, even if it squeezed his schedule. "Definitely. Tomorrow is all set. We'll meet after dinner for the briefing on tomorrow's trip and the trip up to the base on the day after."

"Great," she said. "You need the food."

In response, his stomach growled and she laughed. "Yeah, I checked. You didn't even get room service and I'm pretty sure you didn't have more than a protein bar for breakfast, if that."

Jon leaned back in his chair, hands in the air. "You got me. I could indeed use some food."

She smiled, "See you in twenty, Sir." She left, closing the door behind her.

Ok. Twenty minutes to wrap this up for the briefing after dinner.

He started putting together the map images into a presentation and typing up the op plans. He was going up with them, but then continuing on to scout the route that was for the day after. In two days they were heading up to an American Command Outpost to speak with some cultural liaison officers up there. He wasn't worried about safety at the COP, but the route to and from was a prime target for roadside bombs. The military watched the road too, but a determined enemy was almost always able to sneak in somewhere. He wanted to scout it himself.

* * *

The next morning, Jon rolled north on an old Harley motorcycle; it looked like every other piece of trash on the road but he had made sure the engine was in prime shape.

He was dressed in typical Afghani garb and sporting a pasted-on beard. There had been a few razzing comments from Eagle team, but it had been pretty good natured. The fact that he was personally scouting their route probably had something to do with it - you don't give too hard of a time to the person who's going out by himself to scout for bombs that might blow you up.

The bike puttered along slowly heading north along the road toward the base, and Jack kept his eyes scanning. Turned over dirt. Concealed people. Metal or plastic that looked suspicious. Wires. Anything out of the ordinary.

The road was relatively well-paved, the Army's engineers had re-built the road from the foundation up to support the load of military vehicles regularly passing over it. One had already passed Jon, heading the other direction. Quite a few Afghanis were also taking advantage of the road; Jon had seen several other motorcycles and a few dilapidated trucks hauling farm produce. Though in this area, it was likely that the trucks were carrying drugs with crops piled over to hide the drugs.

Nothing had caught his attention, and he was only a few klicks from the COP. The traffic had almost entirely faded away, with not much out this way other than the military base.

Something was bothering Jon, though. He reached under his tunic and switched the safety off his M70. Under the tunic and loose pants, he wore his regular body armor, weapons, and several grenades.

He started juggling the gas feed to the bike, making the engine sputter and cough. He kept it up, letting the bike slow to a crawl while he tried to figure out what was setting his senses on edge.

Nothing was apparent, and so he allowed the bike to speed back up, and was almost to the base when it finally dawned on him. The fields had all been empty. The fields were hardly more than single family plots of an acre or two, and they had become more widely spaced as he had continued. The COP was placed for strategic and defensive reasons, not for agricultural reasons - the base was in a rocky and barren area with several roads connecting it for fast movement into the surrounding area.

They didn't want a lot of civilians around. Well, at the moment there were exactly zero civilians visible, even when there should have been.

A hundred yards from the fence surrounding the base, the south entrance had gatehouses, a machine gun emplacement on the west side of the road, concrete barriers in place, and a dozen military personnel at full alert.

As he rolled up, the machine tun was trained on him. A humvee with a .50 caliber turret was parked on the far side of the guardhouse.

He made sure his hands didn't leave the handles of the bike.

"What is your purpose here?"

The translator called in Arabic from inside the guardhouse. Jon knew he looked like a prime suspect for a suicide bomber - a single young male, apparently a native, all on his own.

"It's such a lovely day. I wanted to get some fresh air and see the lovely countryside."

He spoke in English, and smirked as the soldiers all gawked at him.

"Is this a joke?"

Geez. Way too uptight. He sighed.

"No joke soldier. As I was coming here, I noticed all the fields are empty for the last four or five klicks. I suggest you pass that bit of info along."

"Sir. Get off the bike and keep your hands in the air."

"Aw fer cryin' out loud!" He raised his hands just the same. "Lieutenant, I suggest you do what I say - get on the horn to your commander. The farms are all empty. Nobody farming."

There were a couple quick words passed back and forth inside the booth.

"Sir, step away from the bike and open your tunic and shirt."

Jon grumbled, "Stupid stick up their butt Lieutenants," but complied. There was a machine gun trained on him from the emplacement and he didn't feel like testing a jumpy trigger finger just yet.

He pulled off his beard and lifted up his tunic, displaying the black body armor and the M70 strapped across his chest.

"See this," he yelled up. "Do I look like a damn bomber? Get your head out of your butt, Lieutenant, and put in the call to your commander. Something is going to happen. Soon!"

It didn't do any good. The kid ignored the fake beard and focused on the gun. "Get down on the ground! Hands on your head!"

Jon had had enough. "Attention!" His voice barked out and all of them jumped at least a little, some of them all the way to attention for a brief second. It was enough to shut them up, though. "I am Staff Sergeant Jonathan J. O'Neill, Special Forces, and you will put your useless mouth to work doing what you're supposed to be doing Lieutenant - specifically, calling your commander and giving him intel of an imminent attack on this base! Do you understand me soldier?!"

By this point the Lieutenant had come to attention; Jon's voice carried the ring of command.

"Sir! Yes Sir!"

The kid, well he was probably twenty, but Jon still figured he qualified as a kid, grabbed a radio and started talking. Jon picked up his beard and waited, arms crossed as the call was completed. The young lieutenant stepped out of the guard house.

"Sir?"

Jon fixed the kid with a glare and the boy paused for a second before continuing, "Sir, Captain Hastings would like to speak with you."

"Ya' think?" The sarcasm was heavy in Jon's voice and the Lieutenant went ramrod straight with his eyes six inches above Jon's head, saying nothing.

After a second Jon relented. "At ease, Lieutenant. You boys keep an extra good lookout. Every farm for the last five klicks was empty. Something either scared them off or is holding them tight so we don't get any …"

A roar massed gunfire and several explosions came from the east side of the base. The base was nearly a mile across, large enough that the sound wasn't deafening, but it was obvious what it was. Jon guessed there were at least fifty weapons sounding there, mostly AK-47s. And if the notoriously uncoordinated Afghan fighters managed to get that many people shooting at once, then there were at least twice that many actual fighters in the area.

Shit.

Jon spun with the rest of the soldiers toward the sound. A large plume of smoke was rising, probably from a large car bomb. The fence blocked most of the sight, but Jon thought he saw a couple people running toward the base fence across the cleared surrounding. Several more explosions went off. Sapping charges to take down the fence?

A thought crossed his mind - distraction or pincer. He spun and crouched down. His instincts had been correct. From the edge of the cleared area fifty yards away, what seemed like a hundred men were charging forward. They'd obviously been told to be quiet for as long as possible because they weren't yelling like Jon remembered Afghani charges of twenty five years ago.

"Hostiles incoming!"

Jon dropped to a knee and pulled his M70 out from under his tunic. He heard the first shout of alarm from the soldiers behind him and hoped they were reacting well. His second estimate of the attackers had only gone up. A hundred and fifty or so. A hundred and fifty versus a dozen.

He started letting off short bursts. Each burst dropping a target. They were closing too quickly, though.

A couple started shooting as they fired, their bullets flying wide. He dropped two more, and then the machine gun in the guard house opened up. The first stream of bullets was wide, but the gunner brought it under control and began moving the stream of bullets across the oncoming people.

However the attackers had planned for this and over a dozen of them pulled grenades out and flung them forward. Jon scrambled to the outside of the guardhouse on his side just in time as a dozen grenades went off. The blasts left him with ringing ears, but he rolled back to his feet and looked up. They were still charging and the machine gun was silent.

He could hear some of the soldiers inside the guardhouse shouting, presumably into a radio, calling for help.

The men were spread into a line, and it was apparent that they were mostly intending to run past the guardhouses to gain access to the main base. Only thirty or so were aimed straight at the guardhouses.

Jon pulled out two grenades and counted. They were only fifty feet away, and there were way too many to take them all out before they arrived. Time to add some confusion.

His two grenades arced out in easy lobs, decades of experience put them right in the middle of the group that had jumped onto the road for faster running since the machine gun had been taken out. One was still in the air when it exploded. The fragmentation grenades scythed through the dozen men, dropping them all.

This took care of the immediate threat, but it had attracted plenty of attention. The entire wing on the east side of the ground along the road were turning toward him. Bullets began to pepper the ground around him.

He stood up and ran, firing one-handed, not caring about hitting so much as to slow the enemy down. He felt something tug at his calf as he reached the edge of the guardhouse and rolled around, hugging the wall for protection. He could make out the sound of guns firing from the guardhouses, but in seconds the guardhouses were getting covered with bullets as what seemed over half of the attackers began laying down cover fire, keeping the inhabitants down. And letting the rest of the attacks past toward the fence surrounding the base proper.

He could hear the bulletproof glass shattering above him as the amount of fire finally broke through.

Jon swore and pulled out his last two grenades.

"If I'da known it was gonna be a party," he grunted as he sent a grenade arcing far out toward the attackers. The second followed it a split second later. "I would have brought more party favors." They were too spread out for the grenades to catch large groups of them any more, but grenades were great at convincing people to keep their heads down. And hopefully not shooting.

He could hear and feel the bullets hitting the side of the guardhouse next to him. At a pause, he picked off one of the attackers who was beginning to get far enough forward that he would get around Jon's cover. As long as he could keep the people laying cover fire from surrounding the place …

He took a chance and darted across to the machine gun emplacement. The fifty feet of open pavement feeling like fifty miles as the bullets peppered about him. He could feel the wicked hum of bullets going past him.

Something smacked his chest, but he knew it was just a glancing hit on his chest plate. Half way across. Then something burned in his side and he knew he'd taken a hit, but he kept going. He dove into the emplacement, landing on a mostly headless body of a soldier.

Jon scrambled to the machine gun and pulled the trigger. If it was still operational …

It bucked in his hands with a roar!

He spun it around and began sweeping it across the field. The first pass swept across the entire side of the field in a second, far too fast to be effective - it was just to get their heads down. The second pass took nearly ten seconds as he carefully walked the tracers across the field, leaving behind a trail of chewed up dirt and corpses where the stream of bullets met a person.

He cursed when he reached the edge of its rotation - it couldn't rotate far enough to potentially hit the fence, and a score of fighters on this side was already past the gun's firing arc. He could see them hurling satchels of explosives at the base's fence.

A baseball bat slammed against his back and hurled him forward against the gun. His breath was driven out of him and he was pretty sure that he had more cracked ribs. In fact … he was having a hard time moving. The plate … didn't stop … everything this time. Another one hit at an angle and his back blazed in agony.

There were still at least eighty attackers here, mostly behind him as he was now facing. As much to get a bit of cover as to bring the gun on the enemy, he lunged into the gun, and it pivoted around dumping him on the ground with a searing pain.

It took him several seconds to gather himself together to attempt to get up, and it vaguely registered that he could hear gunfire from the guardhouse on this side. Good. Now that they weren't being pinned down maybe they'd be able to fight back a bit more.

However the weight of fire from the other side was still as heavy as ever and he thought it was getting closer. They were probably moving up on the guardhouses to throw in some grenades or something. There was enough fire on that side that he was pretty sure they would be able to pull it off, too.

A tiny whine came out of his lips as he pulled himself up. It felt like his entire chest was on fire. _Pierced lung. Broken ribs. Damaged heart maybe, but probably not since I'm not dead._ The impact had been fairly high on his back. He didn't even try to see if he was frothing blood from his mouth. In fact he realized he wasn't breathing.

Instead he pulled himself to his knees and grabbed the machine gun's base to pull himself up the rest of the way. He couldn't breathe.

'_Yup. Lungs. I guess that's it for me._' These kids were going to die though unless they got a bit more help. Might as well push a bit longer.

He nearly passed out as he got himself to his feet. The machine gun couldn't fire onto the guardhouse itself, so many of the attackers were safe from his fire, but there were at least a dozen who were still in its arc of fire. Or maybe more. His vision was getting funny.

His hands found the grips and trigger and latched on with a death grip. The vibrations rocked his body and the gun swung wildly at first, but he didn't let go. He leaned his body against the jerking gun to force it back down, and began working it across the field. He couldn't really tell what he was hitting. The world was blurry, and he was pretty sure that he was seeing twice as many blurry objects out there moving as there really were, but he kept moving the stream of bullets around until it suddenly stopped.

He didn't know if it was jammed or out of ammo. And he slumped down, relaxing his grip. Things were getting sort of … grey … dark.

* * *

**Ha! Got'cha all! I didn't tell you guys this was a death fic, did I?!**

_( It's not really :-) )_


	11. Continuing just a little more

**Yeah, Jon isn't dead. Yet. He still has a lot more agony to go through before his life is over.**

* * *

His chest suddenly jumped in pain as his body pulled in a breath. It was more of an incoming whine, and the tiny thread of awareness remaining to Jon almost objected to the breath as the fire in his chest only seemed to intensify. He struggled to pull in more, though, and the air hissed in and out through his lips, pushing back the greyness at the cost of burning agony.

He sat numbly as his wits slowly reassembled and his chest burned. He wasn't sure how long he had been out, but he could still hear gunfire nearby. It was definitely lighter, though.

He listened to the bursts of firing as his breathing came back, and he began picking out some of what was going on just by the sounds.

The base had some firing going on - mixture of types of weapons. Not a lot of firing. At least not nearby. The concrete barrier was blocking a lot of the sounds, but he thought there might still be heavy firing from further away at the base.

This guardhouse next to him had some firing, but again not much. These were all one type - M16s, he was pretty sure. Those were both good signs.

The guardhouse on the opposite side of the road was also firing, now. That was - probably - a good sign. They weren't completely pinned down now.

The enemy firing on that side was … well, if he had to guess, it would be the sound of guns providing sporadic cover fire and slowly retreating.

He hoped that was the case. His mind still felt a little fuzzy, but the pain was receding a little. He lifted his hands, and encouraged by the motion, lifted his arms a little.

He groaned. _Ooo, that hurts._ A fear began to tickle at his mind.

Jon gritted his teeth and looked at his feet with trepidation. He flexed his foot and the relief at its movement was almost palpable. He hadn't fully acknowledged it, but the the impact on his back, the inability to breath for a while, the lack of control of his legs while at the gun … He set aside the fear.

He pushed through the pain and sat up, a wave of nausea washing over him for a second, but settling back down in a moment. He was beginning to differentiate the pains, though. His body wasn't just a mass of pain, there were points that were more excruciating than others.

His lower side must have gotten shot. His back felt like hot pokers were being jammed in at several different points. It was more than surface damage, too, the way the inside of his chest seemed to burn. And of course, his old friend, broken ribs.

He lifted his hand to his mouth, the simple motion leaving him gasping and lightheaded. He looked at his hand - there was a little blood, but it didn't quite look like ... He spit on his hand and immediately regretted it - the spit was clear but the jab of pain was bad. Ok, his lungs were probably ok. His plates must have worked again. Sort of. He wasn't sure quite what had happened. As long as he wasn't frothing up blood.

Pain was something he could push through as long as his body was still capable of moving.

He concentrated on the pain as he pulled himself forward and began pulling himself upright. Each lash of pain was studied for a second, acknowledged, and then shunted aside. He compartmentalized each pain and forced his body to move through it.

Ribs. '_Yeah, yeah. You're there, I get it._'

Side. '_And you like to burn. Suck it up._'

Back. '_You're gonna be the rough part, aren't you? But guess what, you still work, so shut up and move!_'

As he straightened up, he could finally see what was going on over the edge of the cement wall around the machine gun.

As he had suspected, all the attackers he could see on his side of the road were dead or wounded. There was one soldier in the guardhouse on this side who was shooting out at something, though he couldn't tell what. The field on the opposite side of the road was littered with attackers, but the only ones moving were indeed retreating. He could see the soldiers inside popping up to fire back at the retreating people, but they were still receiving enough fire to keep their heads down.

He turned his head and paused for a long second as the new pain took a moment to process and then shunt aside.

Jon blinked a few times and then continued turning to see the base. Two holes had been blown in the wall, but from his still-fuzzy memory he didn't think there had been enough attackers present in that area to be a serious invading threat. Maybe a couple had gotten through, but that wouldn't be enough to threaten the base as a whole.

However, there was still a lot of firing from the east side of the base along with several clouds of dust from what must have been large explosions.

Jon took a few steps, tentative, but then with more confidence as his legs seemed to be operating with a lot less pain than his upper body.

'_That's good new. Right? Right._'

He stepped up to the heavily pocked glass on the guardhouse and knocked.

Jon ducked as the soldier inside spun. "_Oh come on,_" he thought as several wild shots punched through the glass over his head.

"Lock your shit up, soldier!" His voice didn't have the volume he wanted, but it would have to do.

"_I miss my team,_" ran through his head. "_Even Daniel finally learned not to shoot his teammates._"

He reached his hand up, body protesting at the stretch, and knocked again. No gunfire. He poked his head up to see a shame-faced kid who looked like he still had razor burns on his face.

"_Was I ever that young and stupid?_"

"Boy, that gun had better have its safety on and be pointed away, or by god I'm going to feed it to you!"

The kid actually brought the gun up to a salute, and then fumbled with it as he realized what he was doing.

"Aw fer cryin' out loud! Just don't shoot me! I'm coming in."

He tried to run, but settled for a shuffle around to the rear of the guardhouse and opened the door, his back and chest screaming in pain, but the screams were in the back of his mind. The kid had managed to get to attention, facing Jon as he opened the door.

Jon almost screamed at the sight. Two people were bleeding on the floor and this idiot was … !

He swallowed his rage. The kid was scared witless, literally.

"Get your first aid out, now!" Jon crossed to the slumped soldiers and knelt to check them out.

At least the basic training had drilled in the response to orders - the kid was getting out a kit.

One soldier, a female hardly any older than Cassie, had caught a bullet in the throat, and was obviously dead. The glass was bullet proof on the gatehouse, but enough bullets hitting would finally break through, and there had been hundreds of bullets hitting these windows.

He turned to the other and winced - a bullet had sprayed glass fragments across the boy's face as well as hit him in the jaw. He suspected the bullet was still somewhere inside the boy's mouth or throat somewhere. He was still breathing, though, and marginally conscious.

"All right, kid, we've got you. You're going to be all right now."

An unexpected sound behind him made him spin, and the sudden pain dropped him on his butt, his vision whiting out for a moment as the pain crashed over him.

He pushed back at the screaming maelstrom of pain and his vision slowly came back. Another soldier had come in and was starting to treat the fallen boy. He let out a slow breath and stood up. He had come in here with another plan, originally, what was it?

His mind was still moving a bit slowly, and then it finally came to him.

'_Oh. Yeah. Keys._'

"Keys to the humvee. Where are they?"

The soldier treating the wounded boy was more pulled together. She didn't even pause in her ministrations as she replied, "Hanging on the wall. Black lanyard."

There they were. Next question. "Who can operate the turret?"

"Jones here," she said, indicating the wounded boy on the floor.

Jon groaned to himself. This was going to hurt. A lot.

"Ok, how about a driver?"

"Any of us can drive."

"Yeah, but who's best?"

"Carlos. Other guardhouse."

"Thanks."

Jon stood up carefully, his back cringing in pain. He looked at the shell shocked boy standing uselessly. What he had thought were razor burns he could now tell were wiped off blood. He felt a bit of sympathy - the kid had probably seen his friend get shot up close and personal. He checked the boy's nametag.

"Connell." The boy looked at him, somewhat blankly.

"Connell, until a higher up comes, this woman is in charge. Got it?" Connell nodded. "You will follow her orders and assist her in any way you can. Understand?" Another nod. "Good man." He clapped the kid on the shoulder.

He turned to address the woman still working on the wounded boy. "Good work, ma'am. I'm taking Carlos and the humvee to support the base's east entrance."

"Yes sir," came the reply. She looked up briefly. "Thank you sir. We wouldn't have," she swallowed, "Well, good luck, sir."

Jon nodded and turned to grab the keys. This wasn't over yet.

He crossed the road, noticing that the last of the attackers had retreated from the field. He looked in the open door of the guardhouse. Two people were wounded and being attended, each by a soldier with a kit open beside them. It didn't look like either were mortally wounded.

Two other people were standing watch, crouched by the broken windows, looking outside.

"Carlos!"

One of the men standing watch turned, and Jon tossed him the humvee keys.

"You're with me. We're taking the humvee to support the east gate. You're driving."

The man nodded, "Yes sir," and followed Jon over to the truck.

Thirty seconds later Jon was swearing in every language he knew. He was in the turret and the humvee was crossing the field, directly toward the east gate.

The very bumpy. "Umph!"

Infested with gopher holes. "Huhhh!"

Never-to-be-sufficiently damned. "Ahhh!"

Field!

Jon gritted his teeth.

He could see a few attackers still suppressing the gatehouses on the east side, though one of the buildings was a smoking ruin. The base gate was blasted apart by something big, as were four smaller areas of the fence.

The chatter of their own weapons and their focus on the remaining guardhouse kept the seven or eight hostiles from realizing anyone was coming until the humvee was less than fifty yards away.

Jon prepared himself and let loose with the .50 caliber machine gun. It vibrated and jerked in his hands, sending fresh agony through his chest and back, but it did its job. Three attackers were cut in half while another's leg was taken off when he almost managed to dive out of the way.

Carlos swung the humvee around and Jon was forced to let up on the gun as his body was flung back against the edge of the turret - the pain was too much to handle for a moment. As soon as the humvee straightened out he pulled himself back against the machine gun and started raking the remaining hostiles as they broke and ran. One fell, and Carlos began turning the humvee again to chase them down, but Jon hammered his fist on the roof.

"No! Leave them. Head for the gate!"

Carlos turned the humvee again, hard.

Jon cursed as he was again flung against the turret edge.

"What's that sir?"

Jon groaned, "Keep going!"

Damn. Apparently this kid wanted to be a stunt driver. Jon was going to kick his ass, though, if he kept spinning the freaking vehicle around like that.

Jon sighed in relief as they reached the road, and the smooth surface replaced the bouncing of their passage over the field.

Seconds later they reached the gate, and Jon could see several groups of attackers inside the base. They were facing and moving deeper into the base, their backs to the gate, and Jon opened fire again.

The pain rolled over him again as the jerking, vibrating gun spewed death, and his world settled into a haze as Carlos roared back and forth.

Jon could vaguely tell that the base had organized a defense, but the enemy had gotten inside their primary defenses of the gate and fence. The haze of constant pain clouded his mind, and he couldn't think strategically any more. Each twist of the humvee as it turned back and forth added exclamation points to the fire that engulfed his body.

His entire world narrowed down to his gun and the sounds of rifle fire pinging against the turret. As he heard fire hit the turret, he spun the turret toward that direction, spotted the attackers and let loose with the gun. Over and over.

He could tell he was becoming less and less accurate, but couldn't bring himself to care. Agony rolled on and time slipped away.

Finally the humvee stopped, and Jon kept watch vacantly out the front of his gun.

"Sir."

"Sir!"

"Sir!"

The calls finally got through to him and he groaned as he turned to face the voice. Someone he didn't recognize was standing next to the humvee calling up to him.

When he saw Jon's eyes focus on him, he repeated, "Sir, they've retreated. Are you all right?"

Jon just groaned again, and slumped down inside the humvee.

"Medic!"

The voice echoed from a long way away. Down a long, dark tunnel. Blackness was coming in again and he didn't bother fighting back. He was done.


	12. Feeling MUCH better

**Ok, I think it's finally time we let up on poor Jon, what do you guys think? Has he had enough? Should we let him enjoy himself a bit after all that?**

**And oh did it feel good to be evil! I'd apologize, but I'm not sorry. I was giggling maniacally the whole time.**

**I was in a particular mood when I wrote part of this chapter, and I had to go back and chop out some large parts and reword things down to get it to fit into the "T" rating of the story. There's a bit of spice in this chapter.**

**Jon's recovering all sorts of levels, not just physical.**

* * *

Muted sounds. His back hurt. Hell, everything hurt. Staff weapon? Must have been. He could recognize the fuzzy feeling of being drugged up.

His eyes cracked open and he recognized the gown that covered his body. Damn gowns. Never any decency. He'd have to ask Hammond and Janet to get better gowns.

What else? More cake. More Jello too. Carter liked Jello. Blue Jello. Carter.

Mmmmm.

Homer. Donuts. He almost giggled and hummed again.

Something was niggling at his mind, but he couldn't place it.

He dragged his vision outward a little. Hospital bed. Check. IV lines. Check. Nurses. Check.

Room. Room. Room. Not so check.

This wasn't the regular SGC room.

The room didn't have that depressingly sterile feel. It seemed rougher, a bit more haphazard. Different colors.

Had Janet ...

Wait. Janet was dead. This wasn't SGC.

The memories trickled in. Protection detail. Scouting. Military base. Attack. Counter-attack.

Oh bother.

One of the nurses noticed his eyes were open and walked over.

"Well Mr. Mystery. Good to see you're awake. Gonna have some questions to answer."

"How am I?" It was dry and soft, but audible.

Her eyes went up at the sound, and grabbed a cup with a straw, holding it to his lips.

The hell she'd feed him like a little kid.

He lifted his hand and took the glass from her, and then sucked at it himself.

She frowned and shrugged.

"Your back got pretty well shredded. Your back plate took a few hits and was shattered. The pieces, along with a ton of other shrapnel, turned your whole back into ground beef. Broke three ribs. Cracked six more. Your spine is bruised too, but you are obviously still moving, so," she shrugged.

He liked her. Bottom line. No nonsense.

"I like you."

She raised her eyebrow.

"But Teal'c has a better eyebrow."

Amusement.

"Well, you're quite the …"

"So here's our non-existent special ops wannabe, eh?"

The voice interrupted the nurse and Jon felt a flash of irritation. He was having a perfectly nice conversation!

The speaker walked up and the nurse stood aside. "He just woke up, sir."

The newcomer was a Captain with a nametag that read 'Hastings'.

"So, Mr. Staff Sergeant O'Neill. Who are you? You aren't military, despite your claim. Wanna tell me what you were doing showing up right before a major enemy attack?"

Jon's head was still fuzzy, but it wasn't _that_ fuzzy. He remembered that name.

"Retired. Colonel Ja-, er, Staff Sergeant Jonathan O'Neill. Service Number ... 97-333-9753. You obviously only thought to check active duty." He was pissed at this guy. It was taking his brain a bit to work - damn the drugs - and it was making him grumpy. He didn't like this guy. He'd tell him so too!

"You also need to pay more attention to your surrounding area. As I rode up, it was plain as day that something was going on."

He could tell he was talking more than normal, but he didn't care. He didn't like the guy's insinuation, so he would lay out all the guy's failings.

"No activity in the fields. I'm pretty sure you didn't have any patrols, either," he purposefully left off the 'sir'. "They would have either seen the attackers approaching the base, or seen their tracks.

"You've also failed to develop adequate relationships with the surrounding civilians. If you weren't such a moron, at least some of them could have ..."

The man's face was turning red and he interrupted loudly. "There will be none of that! You withheld vital information on enemy actions! I could have you court martialed!"

Jon laughed, and the spike of pain turned it into a gasp. "Go ahead and try it, you little pissant. You'll be lucky to wind up outside Leavenworth. I'll bust you back to private and station you at the North Pole."

The Captain reached for Jon, but he nurse intervened, pushing herself bodily in front of the Captain.

"He is in a hospital and on drugs. There will be plenty of time for talking later."

The Captain began to object, but one of the doctors, having heard the commotion had come up and ordered the captain out.

"This is my hospital and he is my patient. Out. Now."

Jon smiled as the doctor sent the Captain out. "Not bad, doctor. Not a candle to Janet, but not bad."

The doctor whirled on him, but Jon had faced far worse, and just smirked back at the tall, thin man.

"You need to rest." He turned to the nurse. "Make sure he rests and no one else comes in to talk with him until I say so."

"Yes sir."

After the doctor left, she turned to look at Jon and pursed her lips, considering him.

"Gonna cause more trouble, or can I leave you alone for five minutes?"

Jon grinned. "I knew I liked you. I'll give you warning - I'm full of trouble."

She shook her head "Somehow I'm not surprised." She turned to leave.

"Quick question. Or two," he called, and she turned back to him.

"What time is it, and where's my gear?"

She glanced across the room to a large set of lockers before glancing at her watch. "1400. You were out for over four hours in total. Don't worry about your gear."

Jon knew enough. He relaxed.

* * *

He received a meal around 1700, and had done his best to hide his increasing urge to leave. He had been a model patient. He had even flirted with the nurse, her name was Katie O'Roark. He knew he had liked her for a reason! He had gulped the food down along with all the juice she would bring him.

Suddenly the door opened and the doctor and a short, thick man walked in. Jon could see a Lieutenant Colonel's rank on the man and started to worry - this was probably the base commander. Michaels, according to his tag.

"Sergeant O'Neill."

"Sir," Jon replied. The man's voice was confident and calm. Not someone he'd be able to manipulate as easily as he had the Captain. He had still screwed that up, but he was blaming it on the drugs.

"I looked up your service record, such as it was. I hear we have you to thank for helping our south guardhouses to beat off the attack."

"I wish I could have gotten there earlier, sir. An extra couple minutes of warning might have made all the difference. As it was, I did what I could."

"Hmm. Well what you did accomplish was damned impressive."

Jon remained silent, and the silence continued. Jon knew this tactic as well - leave the air open to give the other person plenty of time to fill it. Jon could fill it with nonsense, but he was pretty sure that wouldn't help here, so he left the silence to continue.

Finally the Colonel grunted. "Report."

Jon held in a smirk, and gave a brief report. It still took a few minutes. The commander eyed him for a second before nodding in apparent acceptance.

"Yes, Mr. Holtz is coming tomorrow, I contacted him, or more precisely your team and verified with them.

"You're in the clear, though you'll be stuck here until you're mobile. Doc says you're healthy enough, and probably won't have any life-long disabilities, though it's still early. We'll get your full report tomorrow. It was all I could do to get just a few minutes with you." He looked at the doctor with some exasperation, but the doctor just smiled a little - it looked like a good relationship to Jon. This Lieutenant Colonel Michaels was probably a good guy. Jon almost hated to give him a headache.

"All right. Rest well, and thank you again for all you did."

"Thank you, sir."

Jon saluted the man and Michaels drew up and returned a parade-quality salute.

Nurse Katie checked him over one last time before she was off for the night and Jon pocketed the pain killers as soon as her back was turned. He could grab a couple minutes of sleep, and the pain would keep him from going too deeply asleep. The drugs would have made him too fuzzy, too. He firmly reminded his body to wake back up in two hours.

The next time he opened his eyes, the room was dark, and the beds, mostly filled with sleeping or unconscious patients were still. He watched through lidded eyes as a nurse finished her rounds and left the room.

Jon flexed his muscles, working from his toes up to his head, before slowly working his way to a sitting position. The fiery pain in his back was gone, but it now throbbed and sent small lightning bolts of pain out in protest at his motion. No problem. The wrapping for his ribs helped immobilize things enough to make it easier to move around.

He carefully turned off the machine before unhooking the sensors and removing the IVs. The catheter removal had him gritting his teeth, but he had done it plenty of times before.

He made his way across the room to the lockers and began opening them up. The third one revealed his clothes, minus his weapons. He frowned. He had liked the pistol. Oh well.

He dressed as quickly as he could, and then looked through the lockers until he found a suitably sized set of BDUs to pull on over his clothes.

He silently crossed the room and knelt next to the door. His back was protesting by the time the nurse silently entered. The door revealing muted lighting outside. As soon as the man was far enough past, Jon slipped out the door and began walking confidently down the hallway.

The night shift was sparse, and he didn't meet anyone until he passed the desk. He nodded to the nurse manning the desk and left the building. The man's expression had been a little puzzled, but not alarmed. The alarm wouldn't start for another three or four minutes when the nurse doing the rounds would find his bed empty.

It took him five minutes to walk across to the motor pool and make his way in. They had probably noticed his absence, and the alarm would quietly have started. He had enough time, though, he thought.

His bike was indeed in the motor pool - he was in luck! He wheeled it back out the side door, and pushed it out around the edge of the base, following a couple hundred feet behind the patrol pacing the inside of the fence. Their dogs would alert them to his scent on their next circuit, but he'd be gone by then.

He finally reached one of the gaps on the south side. There were four soldiers standing guard at the gap which had a cement barricade set in front of it, but nothing more. The gates had much higher priority.

He watched for a minute, and then picked up a few large rocks. In quick succession he hurled them as far as he could down the fence. His back screamed at that, but he had expected it. The fence rattled and two of the soldiers started down that way.

He hated to do this to a couple of innocent kids, but they'd be fine, if perhaps a bit embarrassed.

He sneaked up behind the one closest to him and clamped his hand over the man's mouth as his other arm encircled the man's neck. Five seconds later and he let the man down gently. Eight seconds later he set down the man's partner as well. Ten seconds later, and Jon had pulled his bike around the barricade and started pushing it off into the darkness, jogging quickly across the field, pushing the bike along.

It was almost thirty seconds before he heard a shout behind him, and he grinned. That Captain really needed to get his game on. That was pretty sloppy.

He continued to trot along until he reached the brush, two hundred yards from the fence. He could see the guardhouse he had defended, now re-manned and active. It looked like they had been warned of some activity, though it looked like they were focussing on incoming threats instead of outgoing people. It would take a couple more minutes for the apparent attack at the fence break to be connected with his disappearance from the infirmary.

He purposefully pulled his motorcycle back onto the road just outside visual range of the post, but definitely within hearing range of his motor starting.

He grinned as he hopped on and started down the road away from the base.

"_Chaos. Confusion. Disorder. My work here is done._"

Jon laughed as he roared away.

* * *

2 Days Later

Jon shifted in discomfort.

His back was a pain in the … well, back.

He grinned to himself at the obvious nature of his problems. He was sitting with maps strewn about him, planning the next several days worth of trips. He had returned late in the night from what had originally been just a trip to scan the route to the base. His team had been shocked, to put it mildly.

Trisha had re-dressed his bandages, which were soaked with blood from the re-opened wounds from the bike ride. He had given the team a quick summary of the state of the base and the route out there. Trisha had taken him into her room and laid him down afterward. He had protested, but every person in his team had jumped on top of him - they were going to have someone in there to watch him, and his room only had one bed. Trisha's had two, and they were all going to tie him down if he so much as considered disobeying them.

An odd feeling of camaraderie warmed him. He hadn't felt this in far too long. He had missed it without realizing it.

Jon was exhausted, and didn't really care where he slept. He couldn't remember anything after entering the room, and when he had gotten up the next evening, he realized they had slipped him a mickey to keep him down.

Trisha had stood in front of him, hands on hips and glaring at him, with all the others surrounding her, facing him down.

"You were going to rest, _sir_. We had the trip covered, _sir_. You are going to take it easy, _sir_."

Each 'sir' had been punctuated with a poke at his chest as she backed him down. The military address was deeply at odds with them ordering him, ostensibly their commander, to do what they said, but it warmed his heart.

He had rested, but had insisted that they bring him the intel he needed to keep planning the rest of their prime's trips. They had only relented that far after they found him walking back into his room with some notes he had just sneaked out to get from a local informant.

Trisha seemed to have been volunteered to keep watch on him when she wasn't on protection duty.

At the moment she was out getting some maps for Holtz's trip in two days out to Kandahar. That was by plane, and the meeting was going to be in the airport which was deep inside the military's green zone. It was an easy one to protect. He was still putting together a backup plan of road routes if something well and truly hit the fan.

Jon sighed and stretched.

His back was healing. Nearly forty stitches had held his skin together and another ten internally had held chunks of muscle together.

But it was just a flesh wound. The ribs were the slow part.

He stood up and did a few squats. His chest and back protested, but it was a tired sort of protest. Jon wondered if his body was giving up getting him to behave. It was healing up quickly, though. He had pulled out one of the stitches already. He suspected that he'd pull out a couple more later tonight.

He started some leg lifts. He couldn't do sit-ups without ripping things again, and as he was barefoot at the moment, so the leg lifts weren't doing much, but it would have to suffice. He had way too much energy to stay still.

He rolled over and started pushups.

He was up to fifty two when the door to his room opened.

"Jon!"

He smirked and didn't stop his pushups. He could see Trisha's dark feet and their sandals standing at the open door. He kept going until he got to eighty, just to tweak her nose. He heard the door close with a slam.

He hopped back up, ignoring his ribs protesting, and let her see his smirk.

Instead of the expected exasperation, her look was a lot more … intense.

When he raised an eyebrow at her, she walked over and grabbed his face before planting a hard kiss on his mouth. A split second later he was responding, wrapping his arms around her and kissing back with all his pent up energy. His hands roamed across her back, as hers reached back around his head and pulled him hard against her mouth.

It was fierce, demanding, hard. He could feel her against his chest and he pulled her against him all the harder. She responded by rubbing her body against him, eliciting a groan from them both. He was hungry and her need matched his own as they began to pull at shirts, separating only long enough for the cloth to be removed before they collided back together.

Her fingers were yanking at his belt when Jon felt his mind begin to recover from the onslaught of lust, hormones, and stress flooding through him.

"Are, you, sur-hhhh" he panted, but she had plunged one hand inside his pants as her other hand finally managed his zipper, and his thoughts were disrupted.

"Yes, very yes" she groaned as he kneaded her buttocks.

They quickly disposed of their remaining clothing between heated lips and exploring hands. He picked her up and his ribs groaned until he set her down on the edge of his desk, ignoring the crinkle of papers.

They came together with fierce urgency, the movements eager, hungry, impatient. Her broken words and moans matching his own and spurring him on. Moments later she screamed into his neck and he lost his own control, jerking and bucking as she pulled him tight.

Minutes slowly passed as they slowly relaxed from their urgent coupling and their fingers traced each others scars and muscles idly. He finally hummed deep in his chest and pulled his head back a little to look at her face. A light sheen covered her dark skin and her smiled looked very satisfied. Jon suspected his own face mirrored hers in that regard.

"Mmmm," she murmured. "I think you're recovering from your wounds pretty quickly there."

"It's all about the motivation," he replied and they grinned a little at each other.

She wiggled her hips and clenched her muscles, making Jon suck in a small breath.

"Well, we'll have to make sure your recovery continues to be … motivated."

Jon smiled as he slowly pulled back with a small groan, giving Trisha room to scoot off the desk. They raked their eyes over each other. Jon enjoyed the toned and battle-hardened body, and she traced her eyes down from his chest, over the bandages, down the muscles of his stomach, and continuing on with a grin.

They pulled their eyes back to each other's and smirked at each other.

"Motivation," they said together.


	13. Honor

**This is a bit of wrap-up for a few things. It also sets up a few minor things for down the road. I realize it might not be quite as exciting as the recent chapters, but it needs to be there. Don't worry, Jon has miles to go before he sleeps.**

* * *

**May 2nd, Safi Landmark Hotel, Kabul Afghanistan**

Three days later, Jon was finally beginning to relax. Their prime, Klause Holtz, was finally slowing down his frantic pace of traveling, and was instead doing more office work. Tonight was a trip out to a dinner, just barely outside the Green Zone.

Thank God! His body had just gotten the stuffing hammered out of it, and he could tell he had a lot less endurance.

He stretched a little, his ribs were still aching but his back was mostly healed up, or at least he considered it mostly healed. He had pulled out the last of the stitches the night before, or more precisely he had started pulling out the stitches until Trisha had walked in and started pulling them out herself.

And then jumped him, yanking him up against the wall. Jon had countered and they spent an energetic couple minutes in a sparring match that had slowly removed their clothes. That had wrapped up with many more energetic minutes that had left them both exhausted and glowing.

Jon enjoyed what he had going on with Trisha, but was pretty sure it wasn't going a long-term situation. Maybe when he had been 18 the first time he might have thought about it, but with close to five decades of living, at least in his memories, he could recognize it as a relationship for the moment.

She seemed to recognize it too, since when he had invited her to stay the night, she had declined. He liked her, a lot - her fire, drive, and focus burned hot, and it invigorated him. Neither of them were ready to settle down, though, and they realized it.

For Jon it had only been this morning that it had occurred to him that this might be getting over Sam. That had brought a pang to his heart, and then that had worried him, and then he'd wondered … No. He had decided to not worry about it one way or the other - Trisha wasn't a stand-in for Sam, and so he wouldn't feel guilty.

And in the meantime … Jon smiled in memory of last night's sex match. Her time studying MMA had given her several excellent escapes from his holds, and she had finally pinned him down before having her wickedly delightful way with him. At least until she had lost her concentration as she had come on top of him and he had flipped them over and taken back control, bringing them both to another climax.

Jon's pleasant thoughts were derailed as the door to his suite opened, revealing a familiar Lieutenant Colonel with a decided sour expression on his face.

Jon grinned and hopped up, giving the man a salute. It might not have been parade ground quality, but Jon had liked the man and did feel a little bad about the nightmare of paperwork and reports he had probably generated, leaving the base as he had. He remembered his own piles of paperwork, thankfully far back in the distant recesses of his memories.

Lieutenant Colonel Michaels gave him a quick salute as he stepped in. Mickey came to the door behind and looked in with curiosity. Jon waved him away as Michaels sat down, steepling his fingers together as he considered Jon.

Jon remembered the man seemed to prefer silence to make people sweat, so he plopped himself back into his chair as if he didn't have a care in the world. His ribs let him know their displeasure, but he didn't let it show. Instead, he smiled cheerfully at the short man across from him, allowing the silence to continue.

He began to note some details in the man's face - an aura of annoyance that didn't quite seem to fit, and maybe a touch of amusement underneath? Tanned and weathered. Worn, but with plenty of good steel left.

Something in Jon's face must have shown something to the Colonel because a wry grin worked at the corner of his mouth. He finally broke the silence.

"Do you have any idea how much paperwork you left behind you?"

"Actually, I do. Sorry about that. I had to get back to work here."

That was true enough, and it sounded better than 'I hate to be cooped up in hospitals.' Jon had also avoided the headaches that he would have been subjected to in the military's reports. And there was more, but he wouldn't share anything more than he had to.

A flicker of emotions crossed Michael's face and the man sighed. "Well what's done is done, and you really are retired, so I can't make you clean the latrines for a month." Jon smirked a little a that. "So, the doc was pretty alarmed - broken ribs, possible internal bleeding, infections setting in on your back - lots of potential problems. You seem to be doing well."

Jon shrugged a little. "Doing just fine, sir."

"Nice exit. I saw your file. You've obviously done this sort of stuff before."

As much as it sounded like a statement from knowledge, Jon knew a fishing effort. He just shrugged again.

The silence stretched on and Lt. Col. Michael's glare intensified for a full minute before he gave up.

"Hrmph. Well, we've wrapped up our investigation into the attack. Even though you didn't arrive with enough time to give warning, your were instrumental in helping to fight off the attack. You saved quite a few lives. Single-handedly stopped the south assault, and then came over and struck into the rear of the east assault, catching them in a nasty pincer situation. We had stopped their advance into the base, but your strike broke their cover. All while you were wounded."

He raised his eyebrow at Jon, inviting him to comment, but Jon stayed silent. He had this Colonel's measurement now and the man seemed to realize it. He grimaced after only a couple seconds and continued.

"Of course, then you stole a uniform and assaulted two soldiers on your way out. Those are pretty serious actions."

A tiny concern worked through Jon, and if this man were more like the Captain he had dealt with, Jon might have been worried. As it was, though, the base commander in front of him was a better soldier in Jon's estimation. The worry was a small thing.

The man gave a tiny pause as if he were going to try another bit silence pressure, but then continued on.

"However, it is my recommendation that those things be overlooked this time in consideration of the service you provided."

Lieutenant Colonel Michaels stood up at attention, and Jon rose too. This was the true point of this visit.

"Staff Sergeant Jonathan O'Neill." The words rang out, clear and precise. "On April 28th, 2009, you brought valuable intelligence to the notice of the US Command Outpost Keating. While the warning was not in time to prepare before the attack, you were present when the attack occurred. At great personal risk, you returned fire with great effectiveness on an overwhelming force of attackers. When the south guardhouses were neutralized, you risked yourself to reach the gun emplacement."

Jon had come to full attention, eyes focused at the wall beyond the man's shoulder. He saw some shadows moving outside his door, but didn't allow his focus to wander.

"Though wounded, you manned the machine gun, stopping most of the effectiveness of the attack from the south. You were further wounded in the emplacement, but continued to fire. Once the weapon was out of ammunition, you rallied several soldiers and brought medical attention to a severely wounded soldier, likely saving his life.

"You proceeded to bring Private First Class Carlos Chavez with you to drive a nearby humvee toward the east gate while personally manning the turret on said humvee. Doctors strongly state that the pain of wounds during this action should have been completely debilitating. Still, you proceeded to attack the assaulting force, coming up behind them and breaking their attack."

Jon's heart was drumming inside as the words pounded on, metronomical and precise.

"It is my opinion that retired Staff Sergeant Jonathan O'Neill has provided excellent and meritorious service to the United States military at extreme risk to his own life, saving numerous lives, and stopping enemies of our country from carrying out great harm against United States military forces."

Lt. Colonel Michaels came to attention and saluted.

Jon returned the salute sharply enough to satisfy even the most particular drill master.

Michaels nodded and stepped forward hand out.

"I want to give my personal thanks; there are a lot of letters that I didn't need to write, thanks to what you did."

"It was my honor, sir," Jon replied, feeling the callused hand in his own.

"I would consider it an honor if you would come to the base this Friday. We are presenting several awards for exceptional service and I would be pleased to have you there to receive yours in person."

"Sir, I didn't do …"

"Sergeant!" Lt. Colonel Michaels' bark interrupted Jon's objection. It wasn't Jon's "real" title, whatever that was, but the tone still brought him up sharp. He was military, through and through.

"Sergeant, whether you think you deserve the recognition or not, I and others believe you do."

Jon squirmed for a second, and then nodded. He hated being recognized, but he understood honor.

"Yes sir. I'll be there, sir."

Michaels nodded in satisfaction.

"Very good. Before I leave, I've got to ask, off the record. Why the hell did the Air Force ever let you go?"

Jon hesitated, but there was no other viable response. "Classified. Sorry sir."

A minor flash of irritation washed over Michaels' face, but he shrugged it off.

"All right." He paused. "Deep Space Telemetry?"

Jon's face went blank. Very blank. Blankety, blankety, I-am-blankness blank.

Michaels studied Jon for a second and then smirked as he walked back out of Jon's office. "Deep Space Telemetry my ass!"

* * *

That evening's team meal was surprisingly subdued in Jon's opinion. He tried to start some conversations, but everyone, even Mary and Trixie who were almost always a source of ribald jokes, were eating quickly in silence. Jon began to wonder if some sort of disagreement or bad blood had surfaced, but there didn't seem to be any anger, just silence.

They finished their meal in record time, and the prep meeting for the following day was also done quickly without any questions. Granted, it was a simple day, but still, even Trisha hadn't done so much as make a comment about Holtz and his 'assistant'.

The meeting ended, and no one moved, they just continued to look at him. Jon had enough.

Hands on his hips he glared at them. "All right. What's going on? You guys haven't said word one, and if someone doesn't start talking, I'm going to start beating the crap out of you until you do!"

They glanced at each other, and finally Jiminez spoke up. Jon wasn't surprised since he was the most senior.

"Sir, Mickey noticed that Lieutenant Colonel Michaels visited you today."

Jon began to get a sinking feeling. He remembered the shadows moving outside his door during the Colonel's visit.

"A couple of us waylaid him when he left and asked him what was up. He had an interesting story."

Jon almost stepped back as each member of his team leveled a glare at him.

"You said you had gotten caught in the attack on the Keating base. Got patched up and left. The good Colonel fleshed out the story a little bit."

Jon winced. He really hated recognition and this was going to spread, now.

"Sounded suspiciously like you almost single-handedly saved the entire base."

Jon opened his mouth to object, but Jiminez leveled a glare at him, just daring him to object. Jon shut his mouth. Objecting would involve discussing it all at length. He _really_ didn't want to do that.

"Right," Jimmy continued. "So, we've been invited to come too.

"We know you wouldn't head off to this without telling us," Jon could feel blush starting and looked away from their accusing glares. That's exactly what he had been planning, and he could tell they knew it, too.

"We just wanted to let you know, since you might have been feeling awkward inviting us."

Jon swallowed. They were his team. He cleared his throat.

"I would be honored to have you all at my side."

Their faces suddenly broke out in smiles and laughter!

"All right!"

"Way to go boss man!"

"I can't believe you didn't tell us!"

"Did you really …"

Somewhere a few cases of beer appeared and the party lasted late into the night.

* * *

Lieutenant Colonel Samantha Carter was smarter than most tests could accurately gauge. The Asgard, a race of super intelligent beings, and possibly the most advanced race in the galaxy, held her in great esteem.

As fascinating as the technology from the Stargate was, it rarely consumed all of her attention, and her subconscious was almost constantly considering a hundred other puzzles.

Not long before, her interest had been piqued by Jon O'Neill, Jack's clone and virtual duplicate of his being, except started as a developmentally fourteen year old body.

Running into Jon had started her thinking, and a thinking Sam was a scarily formidable thing.

How much was Jon actually Jack? She was completely confident of what she had spoken to Jack that evening, but she was curious to examine the exact amount of divergence. Seeing him jogging along had been quickly visually similar enough that she had mistaken Jon for Jack. His mannerisms were very much like Jack's though there were some differences in attitude which she suspected were evidence of some fundamental differences that had developed.

Her heart had beat faster as she saw him standing there sweaty, handsome and oh so delightfully masculine. She could see the differences between his body and Jack's, and she knew they weren't the same person, but when he had said "Sam" her gut had still clenched in longing.

It was almost like Jack saying her name, something she had wanted for what seemed like her entire life.

To solve the puzzle she needed more information. Once she had put her mind to it, cracking Pentagon computer systems had been significantly easier than cracking the alien code of the Stargate, and she had pulled together everything they had on Jon O'Neill, from their efforts and notes at the beginning of his life through to their actions when Jon had reappeared on their radar.

She had giggled as she read the outrage at the glue and feather bomb left for the third collection team. Jack's blistering emails and commands once he had heard of Jon's reappearance had warmed her heart - she could tell that he still harbored a lot of guilt and discomfort over Jon's entire existence, even if he had done the best he could.

She had even set up a couple of alerts in place should Jon's name come up again in the Pentagon's systems.

She was sitting in her office, trying to determine the Ori's next actions based on reports of their Prior's appearances, when an alert popped up on her computer. Jon O'Neill had been mentioned in a report from Afghanistan.

Her eyes went wide as she read the report, the Priors temporarily forgotten.

Her eyes filled with tears when she reached the doctor's report on Jon's state when he had reached the infirmary. He was just like Jack in so many ways! Her gut tied in knots - she had seen the types of damage Jack could take and still operate, and her years at the SGC had left her with plenty of experience with wounds to know exactly what it must have been like.

A laugh escaped her when she read of his escape from the infirmary. Well, that was certainly another way that Jack and Jon were still alike!

At its end, Sam leaned back.

Thinking.

* * *

**A/N: Now that I think about it, I think this is the end of what would probably be considered the first act. Jon is becoming his own person and establishing himself on his own merits.**

**This doesn't mean there is going to be a bit pause or anything. I have a couple of chapters waiting for me to get around to double-checking them for stupid mistakes and I'll post them. I hadn't thought about this point in the larger story structure until I was posting it here and realized it wrapped up the 'into' of Jon's life.**

**How much more remains? I dunno. I hadn't thought this was going to be more than 20,000 words when I started it, and now we're WAY past that and still accelerating.**

**I hope y'all are enjoying the ride - I know I certainly am! I'd love to hear your thoughts and ideas!**


	14. Back Home, but Surprise!

**This one's a bit short, but I absolutely HAD to cut it off where I did. There wasn't any other choice. Well ... that and I've been a bit busy and haven't had much time to edit my stuff. :-)**

**cwo3neal: I might have messed that up. Let me know which chapter. However, a Lt. Colonel is usually referred to as just plain Colonel in speech. I might have gotten that mixed up and referred to her has just Colonel outside of speech. If so, I take full blame for my errors!**

**I'm hoping to get the next chapter very soon. Tomorrow morning? Maybe? Cross fingers!**

* * *

**August 4th, 2009, Blackbriar Headquarters, Washington DC**

"... so a round of applause for our team for a job well done!"

The group of eighty or so people applauded loudly as Alphonso White, president of Blackbriar Security, concluded his speech. Jon and his team had returned safely with their charge after three months in Afghanistan. There had been four more close calls as various trips had gone through areas where fighting had broken out and one instance of a suicide bomber who detonated himself a block away.

However, the biggest point of happiness, at least from the company's point of view, was that Blackbriar had received piles of excellent exposure at Jon's award ceremony that would convert into piles of profits in the future. The company had put on a celebratory dinner with Jon and his team as the guests of honor.

Jon decided that this wasn't nearly as bad as he had been afraid it would be - the speech had been less than ten minutes, the food was excellent, the drinks were free and of good quality, and the attendees were a pleasure. The majority of the active security personnel were former military or Secret Service with a decidedly _active_ history.

He passed around the room, making sure to touch base with the corporate managers, but most of the rest of the time he was able to spend with other field operatives. It was good. Comfortable. It wasn't the military, but Jon was beginning to consider that this might be a better world than the military, at least when it came to social shindigs.

It was nearing 2200 and a few dozen people were setting up an after-party. Usually Jon would have ducked out long before this, but his team was at the core and almost everyone else in the party was made up of current active field agents. It made the dinner a lot closer to a big party than a fancy social dinner.

They had just decided on the bar when Jon noted the president's assistant answer a phone call - an oddity considering the situation. That she took it over to Alphonso and interrupted him immediately without waiting for a break in the man's conversation, was far more interesting.

Jon noted with some amusement that he was not the only one who had noticed the out-of-place activity - the conversations around him had come to a stop.

"I wonder what is so important and urgent," Trisha murmured. She had her arm looped through his own. They had 'come out' about two weeks before the end of the mission in Afghanistan, and she was staying at his place at the moment, though she was going to leave to visit her family for a two week vacation in two days. She hadn't invited Jon to come along and he was fine with that.

"I haven't heard anything, but I'm not plugged into the grapevine."

He turned to the tall ex-Ranger next to him - a fifteen year Army vet, and a twenty year veteran of the company.

"Tex, you know of any jobs that might be serious like that?"

"Well, not at the moment. Something like a kidnapping on one o' of our teams' watch, but that's pretty unlik- ." The man's slow southern drawl faded away as he watched an admin Jon didn't recognize walk up to the president's assistant.

The guy's long face slowly drew into a smile. "I don't know what's going on now, but we will in a couple minutes."

The president hung up on the call and smiled at the room who was obviously watching, "Don't worry - nothing bad, but business waits for no one. Enjoy your night while I go slave away!"

A titter of laughter and relief ran around the room as the man waved and walked out, his assistant running to catch up.

"Ok, now we find out what that was," Tex said softly as the admin walked over to their group.

"Laura, sugar-pie, dawlin', you gonna let us know what that was about?"

The woman, in her mid-forties and still in excellent shape, hunched forward conspiratorially as the group gathered in closer to hear.

"Alphonso has been stretching the business, looking to move into more areas than just protection."

Everyone nodded. That had been mentioned in the brief speech earlier.

"Well, sounds like something might have come up with that. A kidnapping in Guatemala! A Shell VP's wife and kids kidnapped! He's reaching out to us to organize the recovery - either the payment or a rescue."

Jon winced. That was an ugly situation. Guatemala had just exploded into violence as a previously small band of fighters had suddenly become extremely active, carrying out scores of brazen attacks and kidnappings. Most news hadn't picked it up, but in the protection world, that sort of news was spread quickly. The kidnapping would hopefully be for money, and not to accomplish political goals.

He hadn't dug into the history of the group, but he decided to do so when he had the chance.

The group buzzed with speculation. It sounded like a few of the people had already done some research and they began spreading it around.

They moved to a bar which quickly became a raucous party of tall tales and speculation about the kidnapping.

Jon and Trisha left the party about one in the morning to head back to finish the partying on their own. Trisha, at thirty two, had a taste for experimentation which Jon was able to match with experience. Their sex in Afghanistan had never included a bed, and when Jon and Trisha finally fell asleep, they were on several comforters on the living room floor with the sofa overturned, an empty bottle of chocolate syrup, and clothes strewn from the entry door to the kitchen and back to the living room.

* * *

When the door sounded, both of them awoke, immediately alert. Trisha looked around the room and chuckled.

"You aren't exactly expecting guests, are you?"

Jon smiled and got up, giving her an unneeded hand up and kissed her.

The door pounded again.

"Should I answer it like this?"

Trisha poked a bit mark on his chest and then raked her fingers down his stomach and softly stroked his morning alertness.

"Definitely!"

That was another benefit of a young body. Occasionally annoying, but definitely a benefit on the whole.

He laughed and yelled out, "Hold on!"

He cupped her chocolate breast with a few traces of syrup still visible and gave her a kiss, sucking on her lower lip as he pulled away, heading toward his room.

"Could be Girl Scouts selling cookies. I don't want to traumatize 'em."

She laughed again and smacked his butt as she followed him. As he pulled on a pair of shorts, Trisha pulled on a black silk kimono that just, barely, covered everything. Jon had been delighted when she had pulled that out of her pack. As he walked past, his hand slid up her thigh and under the robe's hem.

"Mmm, mmm, mmmmm."

If it really was Girl Scouts the shorts weren't hiding his state enough to avoid trauma.

"I'm comin'! I'm comin'!" Trisha laughed softly as she followed him to the living room. He rather enjoyed the idea that it would be completely clear to whoever was at the door that they were seriously intruding on him at 0600!

He pulled open the door rather crossly and his mouth dropped open in shock.

"T!?"


	15. Well I Ain't Gonna Be Embarrassed!

**All right. Here's the second part of what I was going to post with the last chapter. I could resist cutting it off back there and it was all I could edit at the time. Here's the rest.**

**Thank you ebineez01 for pointing out my Jon/Jack mistake in the last chapter - all fixed.**

**And without further ado, we find out why the heck was "T" showing up to interrupt Jon and Trisha's morning? How? Using a flashback, of course!**

* * *

**Two Days Earlier, Stargate Command, Cheyenne Mountain**

Colonel Samantha Carter hated her life sometimes. Just when it seemed life was better, it went and kicked you in the teeth.

The goa'uld she didn't mind so much any more - they were gone, er mostly gone.

The Replicators, the Lucian Alliance, The Trust, the Wraith, Atlantis, and now the Ori all seemed to conspire together to keep everything in a state of galaxy-threatening emergency.

Jack had become the head of Homeworld Security, no longer in her direct chain of command, and … well, nothing had come of it. He was busy in DC, she was busy with Area 51 and then back to SG1.

They still had a few moments together, like the last trip to DC with Teal'c and Daniel, but what they really needed was a period of no emergencies to be able to breathe enough to get past their decade of holding things in. It gnawed at her that maybe her feelings were unrequited, and Jack's feelings had shifted to friendship. Nothing had really happened the last couple times they had been together.

She sighed.

Which brought her back to the Ori. She still wasn't sure about how to stop them in the large scale - they had stopped the Origin ships from entering their galaxy at an almost unbelievable cost, but ever since then they seemed to be losing battle after battle against the Priors. She was starting to despair.

She pushed her fingers through her blond hair and sighed. She had been running in circles all day in her mind, puzzling on the Ori.

Sergeant Harriman poked his head into her office. "Ma'am?"

She shook her funk off for the moment and looked up with a smile. "Yes, Sergeant?" They were

He pulled a tray in. "I brought you some dinner. Extra blue jello."

She glanced at a clock and groaned. "1900?"

"Yes ma'am. You forgot dinner again. The paperwork isn't _that_ important, ma'am."

She smiled. Walter was a saint. For over ten years she'd known him and she considered him one of the best people she knew - not an adventurous sort, but steady, caring, and reliable.

"Well, if I had actually done any paperwork in the last five hours, I would agree with you."

She lifted the covering and the smell of the hot food instantly had her salivating.

"Walter, I could kiss you!"

"Not necessary, but you're welcome, ma'am." The man looked incredibly pleased as he left.

Sam focused on her lasagne.

'_Oh god, that's good!_'

She chewed for a moment, savoring the food. Oh she wished ...

She wished Jack was here to talk with her.

But he wasn't. She could almost imagine him leaning against the door, coming in to annoy her or to ask silly questions. She shook her head in memory of how often the interruptions had actually gotten her mind onto a more useful track on whatever project she had been working on before.

Damn the man! He was off in DC!

Well, if Jack was staying out in DC, she'd have to distract herself.

She looked at the pile of reports.

Jack had been a much more enjoyable distraction.

She picked up a report from the middle. She had made a decision and now she could focus on something else. Such as … suspected alien tech leaked into third world countries.

She frowned in concentration as she read the report. Guatemala. Tiny rebel force suddenly carrying out large strikes, and some of the eye-witness reports were rather hysterical sounding - bulletproof rebels shooting out explosive blasts. A bunch of kidnappings. Raids.

This might be good for Teal'c. He was at loose ends at the moment, and … more thoughts, calculations, and predictions rolled through her mind at lightning speed.

A prediction came to mind. It was almost a sure thing, in fact.

It brought a warm glow to her stomach for some reason.

Even more perfect.

* * *

**Jon's Apartment, Washington, DC**

"JonO'Neill. It is good to see you again."

This time Jon didn't hesitate - he pulled the big Jaffa into a hug, slapping his back. This was wonderful!

The Jaffa returned the embrace for a moment.

The man's stoic face had just a hint of a smile at the corner of his eyes - as good as beaming from ear to ear for the Jaffa!

"I am truly sorry to interrupt your morning, but my time is short."

Jon saw Teal'c eyes sweep the room and read the story accurately. He didn't seem to be embarrassed, though. If something was necessary, Jon knew the man would not hesitate, be ashamed, or be embarrassed by his actions. Embarrassment over normal and natural things was alien to the man's nature.

Jon looked around to Trisha, who stood with her arms crossed, leaning against the wall with a small smile on her face. The tiny, black silk kimono didn't cover much, but she didn't seem to be embarrassed either.

Jon shrugged. If they weren't embarrassed, then he sure as hell wasn't going to be the only one embarrassed!

"Well come on in! The rest of the gang here too?"

He looked past Teal'c with a mixture of anticipation and trepidation. If Daniel were here there were going to be fun times! If Carter was here, well, that would be awkward to say the least.

"No. I am by myself."

The large man turned to address Trisha. "I apologize to you as well for interrupting your morning."

She shrugged. "Jon is a good guy, and if you're a friend, then you're a good guy too. I'll leave you two to it."

Teal'c formally nodded to her as she turned back to Jon's room.

"She is obviously a formidable warrior."

Jon's eyebrows rose.

'_Wow. Teal'c-approved._'

Jon nodded in confirmation. "Trisha Jackson. She was a part of my team in Afghanistan. Hell of a hand-to-hand fighter." He grinned at a thought. "I should get you two to spar. I'm pretty sure she'd take you."

No one on base had known the type of grappling Trisha did. Now that he thought of it, he was pretty sure Teal'c hadn't ever faced a specialized grappler. Any sparring matches that wound up in a clinch were typically easy wins for Teal'c, thanks to his strength and size. But no one at the SGC had serious training at grappling.

Most men would have looked skeptical, but Teal'c took his word for it.

"I look forward to it when we return."

Jon reached down to grab his undershirt which had landed behind a chair when his friend's words registered.

"We?"

"Indeed."

Jon reached down again and pulled on the shirt. He noticed its collar was half ripped off. '_Looks like we were a bit too eager to get it off last night._'

"Where are we going?"

If Teal'c asked for something, Jon would give it. Without question.

"Guatemala."

"Gate related?"

"Possibly."

"Any others?"

"No."

"Should I bring my own equipment?"

"ColonelCarter said we could 'raid' the Pentagon."

"Sam asked for me to go?"

"No, but she said I could gather anyone I wanted to accompany me. I choose you."

Jon's heart swelled.

"When do we leave?"

"Tonight."

"How long?"

"A week, at least."

Jon thought for several moments, running over the things he could accomplish and the things that would have to be left hanging. He realized Trisha had reappeared at some point, now wearing jeans and a tight workout tank top.

"Hey, I need to …"

She interrupted him. "Leave tonight. I heard. I can close up the apartment for you. I'd be glad to."

She turned her eyes to Teal'c and studied the man again, eyes pausing at his tattoo. Jon could see Teal'c returning the examination.

"T?"

"Teal'c."

"You from Jon's classified past?"

Teal'c looked at Jon, and Jon nodded.

"Indeed."

Jon could tell Trisha knew there were a lot of things being left out, but she didn't appear to mind.

"Good. He misses it."

Jon started to flush a little, but was quickly distracted by Teal'c expression. Both of his eyebrows had gone up and his eyes had widened a little. Jon wasn't sure he'd ever seen the big Jaffa so shocked.

Teal'c gave a deep nod of his head to Trisha and turned to Jon. "You are most fortunate to have found such a warrior as a mate, O'Neill."

Jon did start to blush at that.

"Well, it's …"

He started to clarify but couldn't figure out exactly how to say things.

"More like comrades in arms. Who enjoy each others company." Trisha's words were filled with amusement.

Teal'c nodded his head in understanding.

"So, is there any way I can help, or should I get out of your way?"

Jon was about to let her know he thought they had it covered. He could still feel his ears burning. So much for his resolution to not be the only one embarrassed!

Teal'c spoke more quickly. "Your presence in planning the operation would be most welcome."

'_What the fu…?!_'

Jon looked at Teal'c in surprise, but the man was already pulling off the small backpack he was wearing.

Maps were quickly spread over table and Jon pulled his focus onto the operation's planning.

If Jon was reading between the lines properly, some alien tech had somehow leaked out to these rebels. It was going to be a rough trek through jungles to spy on a small army out in the middle of nowhere that had who knows what sort of advanced gear.

Just he and Teal'c. On their own. Against an army.

Oh god! He could barely keep himself from bouncing in his chair.

This was going to be so much fun!


	16. Wild Thing!

**Ok, I've got to admit that I'm totally giving myself a big head - massive chapter posted along with two other chapters, all in two days. ****So, the poor people who have to live with me would appreciate it if you pop my bubble a little. Review and don't bother being gentle. I can take it, 'cuz right now I'm a writing BATMAN cranking out ten thousand words in two days. (I might also be sleep deprived - that might explain things too.)**

**I messed up the insignia for Sam a few chapters back - she should have only had a pair of leaves for a lite colonel, but I described it as an eagle which is the insignia for a full bird. Thank you for spotting that!**

**So, a bit more Jon. This time Jon and Teal'c.**

* * *

Jon and Teal'c were in the back of a small prop plane flying over the jungles of Guatemala. Jon suspected it was a CIA-run plane. It was like thirty years had disappeared and he was back to hunting down drug lords.

'_Thirty years? Sheesh! And here I don't look a day over nineteen._'

It had been a blur of activity for the last thirty six hours. He had already been scheduled for a week of vacation after Afghanistan, and when he had explained that he was leaving for classified work, Blackbriar had been pleased to let him take as much leave as he needed.

Several pointed suggestions had been made that, if at all possible, the company would like to see some benefits from Jon's actions. They had also eagerly opened their own equipment stores - likely hoping their support would be viewed favorably. Teal'c had made a call, and Sam had confirmed that she would make sure the company was reimbursed for any lost equipment.

Jon could hear her voice faintly over the phone when Teal'c had called, and the voice still managed to turn his stomach. He liked and thoroughly enjoyed Trisha, but - her solid physique, mocha skin, and black hair had nothing to remind him of Sam. Maybe that was why he had jumped in with her.

Jon had quickly abandoned that train of thought. There were a lot of thoughts he didn't follow too far.

Trisha had been very helpful, and Jon finally figured out that Teal'c was testing her, asking her opinion on a wide variety of the operation's aspects. He wasn't sure if he should be flattered or worried that his friend was vetting his girlfriend, even if she wasn't really his girlfriend.

They had a large case of equipment on a parachute and would be jumping soon. It was about ten miles from the group's main base - making it a solid day's travel through the un-tracked jungle.

Teal'c had been his typical succinct self on the trip down, filling in Jon on the details he hadn't been able to say with others around. The reports had mentioned bulletproof attackers, and goa'uld shields matched that description, though Jon didn't know how regular humans could operate that sort of technology. Shooting out explosions sounded pretty goa'uld-y, but they hadn't mentioned staves, just guns shooting explosions. A few had said they were shooting little grenades.

He figured Sam could probably figure it out if they were able to capture any. Their mission was mainly observation, and if alien technology were confirmed to be present, they were to gather as much information as they could and report back.

If there was alien tech, Homeworld Security would handle it from there with cloaked ships and hordes of their own forces.

"Ten minutes to jump time."

The call came over the tiny speaker next to Jon's head.

He took a deep breath and yawned, stretching. He had slept on the first flight down to Panama, but since then it had been catnaps. They were making their jump just before dark, so they would have a night to prepare before starting their hike in the morning. Apparently it fit into the typical airplane patterns around the area, most likely drug gangs.

He reached over and touched Teal'c knee. "Ten minutes to jump."

The big man nodded and began checking his own gear. Jon checked the case and his own gear for the twentieth time - he'd made jumps where the parachutes hadn't worked quite right and he didn't want a repeat.

Fifteen minutes later found them safely on the ground with only a few little scratches. They had landed in an open area that had been lumbered twenty years ago and was still comparatively thinly covered with trees.

"I'll scout if you want to start camp and prep."

Teal'c merely nodded and began opening the case. Jon slipped off into the jungle.

The evening darkness was quickly setting in and Jon chose speed over stealth as he swept in a large circle a few hundred feet out from their camp. It was only a quarter mile or so to make the circuit, but Jon wasn't surprised that it took him fifteen minutes - the area was thick with underbrush and vines. Once they got into virgin jungle, much of the underbrush would disappear, but there would be other challenges that would slow them down.

He made it back into camp to see Teal'c starting MREs heating and their tent set up. The case showed evidence of being unpacked and packed. Jon sat down and began testing their equipment. Tac radios. GPS. Satellite phones. Cameras. Weapons. EMF scanning gear. Night vision goggles. Water purifiers. And more.

With unspoken agreement Jon began the first watch after he finished the meal.

Teal'c had sat down in the tent and almost instantly shifted into a deep kelno'reem meditation.

They hadn't said more than a dozen words since they landed, but Jon was more at ease than he had been in years. Some sort of muscle in his mind was relaxing. Having his Blackbriar teams on missions was great, but having the Jaffa warrior with him had shifted his entire state of being - a trust so deep you could lay your life on it without a second thought was a precious and wonderful thing.

Jon relaxed into the feeling - all was right with the world even if their lives were in danger.

The night proceeded on and Jon watched the stars slowly move across the sky. He had never gotten back into astronomy since he had been re-made, and while he didn't feel the need for another telescope, he still loved the night sky.

The jungle was full of sounds, but nothing sounded out of the ordinary. His memory of missions in these jungles back in his Black Ops days were a little fuzzy, so he couldn't be completely certain everything was in order, but there was plenty of buzzing, chirping, howling, and *smack* … bugs.

He sprayed on some more repellent.

Ok, maybe his memories of his jungle missions had acquired a bit of rose-colored tinting.

Middle of nowhere? Check.

Dangerous mission? Check.

Best friend with him? Check.

He eventually woke Teal'c and settled under the netting. Life was good.

* * *

The next day involved walking. And more walking. And hacking through patches of underbrush. And wading through streams. And slogging through marshy ground. And picking leeches off himself.

"Ok, Teal'c, old buddy. I'm officially no longer having fun," Jon stated as he pulled a long black leech out of the front of his pants. He wasn't sure how long it had been hanging on him, but it had been nearly an hour since the last stream.

"I disagree. You have been whistling all day."

"Ah! How long have you known me?"

Teal'c cocked his head, considering the question, and Jon laughed.

"Sorry. Bad question. Between me and Jack, you've known us for years and years. You know that I whistle when I'm having a bad day."

"I do not believe I have ever heard you whistling during a bad day."

"Huh. Your memory is fading now that you're getting older. You'll just need to trust my excellent _young_ memory. I whistle when I'm having a bad day."

"Indeed."

Jon laughed again. That had been the driest 'indeed' he thought he had ever heard!

"Well, while I'm whistling about the horrible day I'm having, how about you check the scanner?"

Jon went back to relieving himself as Teal'c pulled out the scanner. It was one of the items Teal'c had brought from SGC - all Earth tech, but set to scan across a huge range of EM frequencies, including several frequently emitted by goa'uld tech.

A moment later Jon heard a squawk of voices over the scanner. It was too full of static to make out the words. He checked it along with Teal'c.

"Radio signals are getting stronger. Good. That is their camp, then. We're probably a mile or so away." He tapped the screen which was only displaying a few numbers. "No goa'uld emissions, though."

"Indeed. Silence is necessary from here on in."

"Agreed."

The two men melted into the jungle - their casual passage through the jungle up until now changed as the two became predators.

They spent nearly two hours covering the last mile, and finally Jon was half way up a fallen tree's trunk at the edge of the camp, binoculars trained on the camp to the south. He had been watching for thirty minutes now. He didn't know exactly where Teal'c had gone, but he was somewhere off to the east, not too far away.

"Forty seven hostiles from my count," Jon whispered into his tac mic.

"I believe there are three in the dried mud building which you cannot see. Otherwise I agree."

"Twelve likely prisoners."

"Confirmed."

"Twenty six other non-combatants - women and young children."

Teal'c response was delayed for a moment. "I believe many of the women capable of fighting."

"Confirmed. Not currently armed, though."

"Agreed."

"No sign of technology that doesn't belong."

All the 'men', some of whom were barely thirteen, carried either machetes or pistols. Several had AK-47s hanging from straps as they walked. Two trucks were parked next to a rough dirt track that led south away from the camp. All except for one of the buildings were made from corrugated siding and tied-together tree branches. A rain had come through an hour before, and Jon had watched as a couple women repaired the roof on a hut that had likely been leaking.

He shook his head in dismay at the messed up world that produced a situation like this.

The one truly permanent building was a mish-mash of construction. Cement blocks made up two walls while the rest seemed to be adobe and wood. There was a hut between Jon's vantage point and the permanent building. In the thirty minutes they had been watching, Jon had watched people wandering around. If Teal'c said there were three in that building, then they were likely guards, and so were guarding something.

It wasn't the kidnap victims - they were allowed to move around, though they stayed together, nervously grouped.

"From the reports I was expecting a larger group. Is the scanner showing goa'uld emissions? Any cloaking of some sort?"

"No. However, other emissions are present. I believe the source is that central building."

"Probably so. Crap."

The weapons, stacked away in a central location like that, probably wouldn't be pulled out unless they were going on another raid. That was something, at least. They'd only face traditional weapons, at least until the special weapons were accessed.

"Something in the building is large. The doors are over twenty feet across."

Jon whipped his view back and forth across the village. He couldn't see that side of the central building, but if Teal'c had said it, it was true.

"T, how many vehicles do you see?"

"Only two."

Crappety crap and double crap.

"How much ya' wanna bet they've got a vehicle in there along with their other stuff."

"I will not bet against you on that."

Jon thought for several minutes, watching the casual activity of the camp.

"We have to check that out. If there's a vehicle of some sort, they need to know before they come swooping in here. We also need to check for alien weapons."

"I agree."

"Tonight."

* * *

'_Holy Hannah, but I love technology!_'

0240 looked like it was almost daylight - a weirdly greenish-tinted daylight, but daylight nonetheless. The last time he had used night vision goggles had been, well sort of never, but the last time he _remembered_ using them they had been so large that they had to be held up with both hands and had such poor clarity that he had only used them to scan an area before going back to his regular vision to actually act.

These things though!

No larger than a pair of binoculars, they gave a movie-quality picture and could be switched to infrared!

Teal'c had declined until Jon had found the infrared ability. Teal'c eyes were decidedly better in low-light conditions than Jon's, so the night vision part wasn't as much of a change as it was for Jon, but the ability to see heat through brush and walls - that had sold the big Jaffa. Jon was pretty sure Blackbriar wasn't getting that pair of goggles back.

'_Attacked by a leopard, and it ran off with the goggles! They'll believe that._'

The trip into the village had been accomplished in half the time it would have otherwise since they were able to see exactly where the guards were. Only four, and they were slowly wandering back and forth just outside the outer buildings.

Teal'c and Jon had both easily ghosted past the comparatively blind guards and were slowly moving through the village. Twice their infrared vision had shown someone moving around inside a hut, and once the person had come outside to piss. They had easily just stayed quiet in the darkness and proceeded past when the way was clear.

It felt like playing tag with blindfolded opponents.

Finally the two dark forms reached the central building. A brief check had shown four people inside - two sitting up, two lying down. There were several large objects in there, just based on things blocking the infrared body signatures, one of them certainly large enough for a vehicle.

Jon and Teal'c both moved silently around the sides of the building to the small door, poorly fit, which people seemed to use more often. The front 'garage door' opening, as Jon thought of it, was closed. This door though ….

Teal'c began watching through the walls for signs of movement as Jon poured oil on the hinges, gently flexing the door. Eventually the tiny squeaks disappeared and Jon pulled the door open the rest of the way. Jon slowly moved in, his goggles turning the illumination from a weak yellow bulb in the corner to full daylight.

A dozen large crates were stacked about the sides of the single room, but the central object grabbed his attention - definitely not Earth-tech. It appeared to be a troop carrier sort of vehicle, but it had no wheels, instead it floated an easy eighteen inches above the packed dirt floor.

He looked over at Teal'c. Even with the goggles on, Teal'c recognized the unspoken question and gave a tiny movement of his shoulders.

Jon frowned. Teal'c didn't recognize it.

He reached up and began recording his goggles' view for others to see later. He slowly panned back and forth, getting the entire building's interior, and then carefully walked forward until he was close enough to the vehicle to touch.

'_Don't touch,_' he could almost hear himself ordering Daniel. He managed to get the half of the vehicle recorded on camera. He checked the crates, but they didn't have any recognizable markings - an odd script that he could tell wasn't Goa'uld, Asgard, or Ancient. He was sorely tempted to try peaking into one of the crates to see if more unrecognized alien tech was in them, but he suspected it would be too loud.

Finally he peaked around the edge at the figures sitting or lying down. Two were sleeping lying down, one looked to be a dozing guard, sitting up against the wall, and the fourth person looked to be a prisoner tied against the wall.

Jon frowned. That man's clothing seemed odd - not a style he recognized. It was almost a unitard, but open at the neck with a high collar.

A low grunt came over his ear as Teal'c gave a soft sound to get his attention. Jon looked up to see the Jaffa quickly crossing the room toward him gesturing for Jon to back up..

They both retreated into a far, darkened corner of the room.

"Someone -"

Teal'c's whisper was cut off as Jon could hear the door rattle a little as it was opened. A man walked into the room, and went directly to where Jon remembered one of men lying down. Even infrared didn't give them any information because the large alien vehicle blocked their sight.

Jon could make out the voices, though. They weren't keeping their voices down, and while his Spanish was rusty, he could get the gist of it. They were about to take off. A raid on … some words Jon didn't recognize … Federales.

Crap.

"They're heading out on a raid," he whispered to Teal'c.

"We will be discovered if we remain in here."

Suddenly several light bulbs throughout the building popped on.

Jon cursed under his breath as he and Teal'c stepped back further into the stacks of crates as they pulled off their goggles.

As they ducked further back, he saw a crate that had not been closed. He looked in.

'_Great. Better and better._'

Alien weapons he didn't recognize, but obviously energy weapons of some sort - they looked like sleek, Star Trek-styled rifles.

He tapped Teal'c.

The man's face became grim, matching Jon's own. They remembered the disjointed report of attackers firing grenades and explosions. These seemed to be likely explanations.

Well, if there was anything Jon knew how to do it was cause trouble. His mind began seeing reactions to his plan and how to ride the chaos. Yes.

One bad thing about energy weapons - in fact it was a big reason Jon, er, Jack hadn't pushed hard for their development for SGC missions. He was certain Carter could have figured something out. No, he felt energy cells were too volatile for grunt soldiers to use in combat.

If a magazine of bullets cooked off from an unlucky bullet hit, it was certainly dangerous. If an energy source capable of shooting out repeated blasts of plasma cooked off, well the explosions were much bigger than any magazine of bullets.

"C4."

Teal'c silently pulled four small bricks from Jon's backpack.

'_Never leave home without it._'

Several tense moments passed as Jon began stringing the blocks together with primer caps and cords. Several more men entered the building, but so far the people were on the opposite side of the large vehicle. Jon didn't feel like stretching their luck any more and his movements were bordering on _hasty_. Slapping cords and caps into the blocks so quickly was something that probably qualified as genuinely crazy.

He placed two blocks in the open crate right on the center of the alien rifles, and then quickly strung the other blocks onto the nearby crates.

After a moment's thought he pulled out one of the rifles.

"Thirty seconds."

Teal'c nods.

Jon sets the digital timer and whispers, "Go!" as he presses the start button.

Throwing aside stealth, Jon and Teal'c charged out and down the side of the building, heading for the door. A couple vaguely alarmed voices query the sudden sound of running feet.

Jon pulled several grenades and lobbed them over the vehicle, toward the voices. The voices shift to alarm as Jon reaches the door. He risked a quick glance over. They are diving to get away from the grenades, and even though several of them see Jon and Teal'c they don't have weapons in hands and aren't in a position to fire even if they did.

The door banged open as Jon hit it, and he immediately plowed into a heavily mustachioed guerilla fighter with three more men behind him who were about to enter the room.

Jon fell, but Teal'c behind him continued forward with a quick leap. Jon got a sense that Teal'c had kicked out with his massive boot, but could tell nothing more as he focused on the man in front of him.

He fell as heavily as he could onto the man and smashed his forehead down onto the man's nose when they hit. Lights went off in his eyes, but he struggled to his feet as the man under him spasmed in pain.

He could hear the shouts inside the building, and then shouts from elsewhere in the village, but they were single voices of alarm, not widespread alarm. People were still waking up.

He slowed his sprint enough to look behind for Teal'c. Three grubby guerilla fighters caught by surprise by the First Prime of Apophis? Jon's only thought was to see how far behind Teal'c was after destroying the enemy.

The man was following right behind him and Jon grinned even in their danger. He wished he could have seen that - it must have been even faster than he had guessed!

They had only gotten another couple steps when the grenades began blowing, one right after the other. The cries and alarms would be focused on the building for at least a little - those had been flashbangs and his one incendiary. Lots of light and noise to attract attention to the building and away from them as they ran.

They were almost to the edge of the village when the C4 blew. Thirty seconds of running had been plenty to escape the blast of the C4 bricks - fifteen would have been plenty for just that - but Jon couldn't estimate the blast from the alien weapons, so had put on thirty seconds. He hadn't dared to do more than that since the explosives' discovery would have been easy to disarm - a single yank on the wires would stop the whole thing.

'Could have been worse,' was Jon's eventual opinion on the blast.

The world turned a bright green as the C4 set off power packs - their explosion easily swallowed that of the C4.

Explosions aren't all the same, Jon had long ago learned. Powder explosions. Munitions. Dynamite. Plastic explosives. They all had their distinctive notes, Jon had learned during his black ops days.

The Stargate had given him a new set of explosives to categorize. Exotic chemical explosives were the most like earth-made explosives. Over-stressed systems had lots of smaller _things_ exploding. Energy sources that exploded, though, gave out lots and lots of energy instead of rapidly expanding gasses, though the expanding gasses often quickly followed.

That gave its own distinctive triple whammy.

Heat. Energy was often felt as heat. Lots of heat.

Jon felt a brief second of warming skin as the world turned green.

Next would be a relatively weak blast as things immediately around the explosion shattered.

The air gave a brittle pop to his body as the ground shuddered. You had to be a real connoisseur to note that, Jon had finally decided, because it was usually immediately followed by …

A wave of superheated air pounded at Jon's back, lifting and sending him flying. The roar engulfed him for a brief second.

Enough energy made lots of heat. Enough heat vaporized things. Solids, when vaporized, made a great deal of very hot gas which expanded very quickly. The boom.

And by God, he _loved_ the boom!

Jon rolled several times, coming to a stop on his stomach. The jungle ten yards ahead of him was lit by a surreally wavering orange glow.

He swung his head around. Teal'c? Where was Teal'c?

A few feet behind him he could make out the big man already struggling to his feet.

Jon began to work his own body. Things seemed to be responding, though not well. He finally got himself to his hands and knees, but his body couldn't seem to make it the rest of the way up. Teal'c came up beside him and Jon grabbed his pants for support as he finally pulled himself up.

He nodded at the Jaffa once he got himself balanced and smirked a little to see the dazed look still evident on the Jaffa's face.

He took an uneven step forward, caught his balance, and then started forward again.

Jon and Teal'c stumbled into the jungle's edge, pushing through the band of scrub and vines into the first layer of trees before stopping. They rolled behind a pair of trees and panted for a second, letting their bodies have a few seconds to gather themselves.

Jon peaked back around to see the situation.

They had made it almost three hundred feet during that mad dash before the explosion let loose. The central warehouse building was a pile of rubble that was burning fiercely with arcs of green rolling through the traditional flames. As Jon watched, another power supply broke down - the explosion was muffled by the debris on top but still sent rock and wood flying for yards. If Jon had to guess, the main bulk of the pile was probably made by the vehicle.

The huts closest to the central building were blown apart and burning quickly. He briefly thought about the camp supporters, women and children, who had died in the blast. He would have some nightmares and … bad days, later because of them, but for the moment he had to stay on the job. It was disturbingly easy for him to do this - practice made perfect.

The huts further out were mostly knocked over and a few had small flames in them, but a quick response would save … Jon pulled his thoughts away again. Their inhabitants wouldn't be threats. Threat assessment only.

Beyond that, most of the huts Jon could see had significant damage, but were at least partially standing. A quick thought ran through his mind - the captives were held about as far from the central building as possible, so they were probably mostly unharmed.

Teal'c mind might have been following his own thoughts, "The captives are well at the moment, but may suffer the wrath of their captors."

Jon nodded.

From what he could tell, the camp was still in disarray, and he hoped the leadership might have been removed by the blast. Depending on their mood, the remaining fighters might decide to take out their anger on the captives or even execute them all before fleeing.

"One of us will need to stay here while the other calls in support." He looked at the Jaffa who gave a nod. They understood each other perfectly.

"I will proceed with all possible speed," the Jaffa intoned. "Be well."

Jon clasped forearms and nodded. "Same to you."

The big man took off into the jungle at a quick walk. They had been pushing some on their way here, but Jon estimated the Jaffa would make the trip in three to four hours - less than half the time it had taken them to make their way here.

He flipped the cover on his watch, 0317. The group might have been planning on leaving around 0400. Depending on how high that thing could hover and how fast it could go, they could have been anywhere from ten miles to a hundred miles away by dawn.

Jon shook his head. Enough speculation.

There was some organization forming out there - groups going hut to hut checking for survivors. Jon did a few quick counts in his head - there had been six guerillas in the building, four immediately outside. More would have been running in during the twenty-ish seconds after the grenades started going off, but there wouldn't have been many. Up to a dozen in the huts closer to the explosion, but probably some of them had been in the building or ... Jon shook his head. No way of knowing for sure, but at least fifteen combatants were likely killed or badly injured. Another dozen at least injured a little, but probably mostly capable. Non-combatants? He didn't want to think about that too much.

'_Just keep them distracted from the captives if anything starts._'

With that thought, Jon started moving around the perimeter of the village to find a good place to watch over the captives.

* * *

Dawn was firmly in place before something began to happen. Jon had spent the two hours finding a good vantage point over the captives' area with clear lines of retreat, and then getting well concealed.

The captives had all woken from their two little huts at the blast and had milled about for a while before settling back down. Half of them had returned to sleep, but several adults, two men and two women, were sitting in a group before the huts, softly conversing. Their clothing was dirty and torn, but still showed itself to have been fine clothing before.

Jon's watch showed it to be shortly after 0600 when the camp finally started move. The huts began to be emptied of belongings. Several men began checking the trucks over.

A dozen men came into Jon's view, all wielding guns and walking toward the prisoners. Jon was too far away to hear the words, but they were ordering the four adults to do something, and the two male prisoners were arguing back.

Jon winced. '_Just go with them, you idiots._' His worst fears were a sudden slaughter in the heat of anger - other bad things would give him time to interfere.

One of the soldiers slammed the butt of his gun into one of the men's stomach and then followed with a strike to the head, leaving the man motionless on the ground. The rest of the captors pointed guns, and Jon centered himself and his own weapon on the apparent leader's chest.

Several more captives had come out and watched fearfully, and at the fall of the man a woman had darted forward. The violence seemed to be enough to cow the remaining captives, and they quickly gathered their things together and lined up.

The fighters began tying their hands together in a long chain, and Jon relaxed.

He had a decision to make - try to slow things down, or let them go and rely on traditional forces to handle the now traditionally-armed guerrillas. Teal'c still had an hour before reaching their base. After that it could be anywhere from another hour to days for a response. No guarantee that the response would be interested in rescuing the captives, either.

Jon wasn't so naive to believe a few captives of a tiny little band of rebels would be considered more important than the alien tech. They would want to question the rebels about where they had gotten the stuff, but the captives themselves?

If he had been a part of the military, he would have had a list of graduated priorities he had to follow, and he would have been forced to leave the prisoners to their fate. Well, he hadn't always followed the ordered priorities perfectly before.

He grinned. "Aw hell with it. I know what I'm going to decide eventually. Just do it, Jon."

The problem was that he was outnumbered at least twenty to one. They didn't have his weapon skills, and he was pretty sure he could take them in a long, drawn-out game of hide and snipe, but he didn't have the time and it was almost certain to wind up with a lot of the kidnapping victims dead or taken away while he was hiding and hunting.

He needed something dramatic to bring in a little shock and awe.

He unstrapped the alien weapon from his back and pulled it in front of him. He had intended just to have something to show the brass and let the scientists examine, but maybe he could figure something out.

He turned it over and examined it, checking for moving parts, buttons, chambers, anything. He began humming to himself as he played with it. He really did understand Carter's fascination with alien stuff - he liked weapons in much the same way. He just wouldn't ever admit it to anyone.

"The doohickey's connected to the whatchamacallit, the whatchamacallit's connected to the whatsit, the whatsit's connected to the thingamajigger, so go Johnny go. Bum, bum, bum."

It definitely wasn't Goa'uld. It was designed specifically for humans. It didn't use crystal-based tech, so that ruled out Ancient and Asgard-based things. Maybe the Tollans? But they were insular to the extreme, and wouldn't go about making things like this.

He shrugged. It definitely wasn't just a prototype weapon either. The controls on it were simple, evidently designed to be used by a lot of different people, not just the genius designers. Few moving parts and it just felt … solid and tested.

A two-part clamp looked to hold in what Jon guessed would be the power source in the body of the gun.

The barrel was pretty fat, and a bit heavy, but it seemed well enough balanced. Pinpoint accuracy would be a bitch, but if these were what caused the reports of explosions, it wasn't a precision weapon anyway.

Two controls were visible under simple clear sliding covers.

The switch lit up a screen under a slider.

He slid it from its base position all the way to the other end and watched it turn red. Interesting. Don't use it all the way that way unless it was an emergency. At least that was how he decided to interpret it.

The tiny words at different points along the slider weren't any language or alphabet he recognized. Not any of the alien scripts either. Not pictorial in nature. There were some repeating symbols - maybe a numbering system? He was sure Daniel would have been fascinated, but he didn't have time to mess with that.

He slid the slider to the middle setting, whatever that was and aimed it across the clearing to one of the trucks. A grizzled soldier was just getting into it.

"Here goes nuttin'," Jon muttered and depressed the firing stud that was positioned almost exactly like a gun's trigger.

The recoil was almost non-existent, and a green ball flashed across the distance and impacted the truck similar to a staff weapon. The explosion wasn't huge, but it had penetrated into the engine and the engine was certainly destroyed.

Jon slid the cover open and thumbed the slider all the way down.

This time he aimed for the gas tank before firing. There were immobile mechanical sights on top and a barely visible green beebee seemed to hit about where he had aimed. While the initial explosion wasn't big, the gas tank shattered apart and the fuel caught on fire almost immediately, creating an impressive fireball.

'_Not bad_', flashed through his mind. '_More precision and flexibility than the staff weapons. Probably more power than them too if I were to slide it higher. Visible shots, though, suck. Might as well send up a flare declaring where you are._'

Jon was already moving.

'_Now just got to get them to leave the prisoners - lots of terror and panic. Load 'em up in the truck and let 'em run for it as best they can._'

Several people in the camp were firing their machine guns, but the shots were only toward his general direction, not targeted.

He saw a woman run from a still-standing hut with a child in tow. He adjusted the slider a quarter of the way up and aimed at the now-vacant hut.

It exploded with a bang smaller than a grenade, but it was enough to knock the hut down the rest of the way and set it on fire.

He shot at a small group of soldiers that started running his way, and after two misses, blew apart two of them and the rest scattered.

Jon admitted to himself that actually seeing the tiny green fireballs shooting at you probably was pretty unnerving. He knew it had taken him a while to get used to Jaffa staff fire zipping past him with its angry orange balls destruction.

He fired a half-dozen more shots at various points around the edge of the camp, blowing divots of dirt up into the air and knocking down another hut, before sprinting another hundred feet through the jungle at the edge of the camp.

He took aim at another group of soldiers who seemed to be rallying and fired. The first two shots blew apart two of them, but the third shot impacted a small branch and exploded twenty feet in front of Jon's face.

Jon blinked his eyes and shook his head, trying to get the explosion's afterglow to dissipate.

"That's gonna suck in any sort of cover," he murmured as he sprinted on another hundred feet, this time selecting a spot with nothing between himself and the camp. By now he was on the opposite side from the trucks and he opened up with everything the gun had, turning the gun's slider back up to the halfway point and blowing apart hut after hut and taking potshots at soldiers as he could see them.

Even the misses were pretty spectacular. He sent a few shots further into the camp, blowing up gouts of dirt, herding the soldiers toward the remaining truck, hopefully.

There didn't seem to be any retaliatory pushes, and he began to hope. As long as he kept them off balance, they wouldn't be able to form up a real threat.

Jon moved along a couple hundred more feet until he found a nice line of sight again, the flattened huts giving him a clear shot down the entire camp.

Damn. It looked like someone had rallied the troops while he had been moving and was gesturing for them to move out into the jungle on either side.

"Can't have that now."

He slid the gun's setting most of the way to the end and aimed for the wannabe leader standing out in the open. He aimed a bit low, not wanting to overshoot.

The gun's recoil was significantly heavier this time, and the ball of green that streaked through the air was almost the size of a soccer ball. Jon thought it might be slowing down a little toward the end of its track, but the man still had only a brief second to react.

The weapon's precision over five hundred feet was a bit off, but the explosion took care of that. What could have been a large mortar's explosion erupted a few feet short and several feet to the side, but the targeted man still vanished in a roar of dirt that made a short-lived geyser reaching well over treetop level.

That was enough for the guerrillas. Several dropped their guns as they turned as a mass to get to the truck that was already moving. The driver wasn't stopping, though, and only a few people who weren't already on board were able to grab on.

The truck bounced around in a curve and started up the rutted track that passed for a road. Well over thirty people were chasing after it, mostly the guerrillas who had seconds before been about to fan out into the jungle.

Jon slid the selector back down and peppered their heels as they ran, encouraging them in their exertions with small explosions until they were around the bend.

"Well, not bad. Not bad at all."

Jon patted the weapon. He now saw a small bar displayed that looked to be almost empty. "If that's the remaining power or ammunition, that's pretty good. Not the unlimited blasts of a staff, but enough for a firefight. Something tells me reloading is a bear, though."

He pulled a slicker out of his backpack and wrapped the weapon before re-strapping it to his back.

"All right. Time to go make nice with the hostages."

He patted his own earth-made M-70 as he walked through the burning town. "Don't worry girl. I think you guys are still better as an all around weapon, but that thing has some serious punch to it!"

He skipped a little - the adrenaline rush still roaring through him, combined with a delightfully successful mission, had his emotions soaring.

"What do you feel about having an open relationship? Might be a bit kinky, but you, me, alien girl - we'd make beautiful music together! Yeah! You make my heart sing! You make everything groovy!"

* * *

Sheila Garrison had cursed their situation up one side and down the other for almost a week now. She and her two boys had been kidnapped from their vacation villa. They had always felt fairly secure with nearly a dozen armed guards at the estate, but these guerrillas had blown through the guards and grabbed her and her boys and taken off in what had seemed like a flash.

It was on the third day, though, that her world was turned upside down even more.

She had been standing at the doorway of the hut she slept in, watching her boys playing with a couple other children. The camp had been a hive of activity as they were preparing for something. Carlos, one of a dozen other people who had been kidnapped, said he thought the rebels were going on another raid.

As the morning wore on, her puzzlement grew - the trucks were being ignored, instead the activity seemed centered deeper in the camp. She couldn't see what it was, exactly, thanks to the intervening huts. Then around noon, most of the rebels, as Carlos had described them, had gathered toward the center of the camp and a loud cheer had burst out. Ten minutes later she nearly fell down in a faint.

Above the huts, a hovering vehicle nearly the size of a school bus was floating up into the air.

Three rebels were sitting in the front, all waving wildly to people below them, and then the vehicle had picked up speed as it reached treetop level, and quickly moved off over the jungle.

It had returned that night to much cheering, and the celebration had gone late into the night. Carlos had told her that it sounded like a military center had been attacked and raided successfully.

Her kids thought it was exciting to see a flying bus, and didn't questioning its existence. Even Carlos had guessed it was some sort of "American secret tank" but Sheila knew better, though she kept it to herself.

Two nights later she woke up to a muffled explosion in the distance. Luke and Eric stirred and sat up.

"What was that, mom?"

"Shh, I'm going to check."

She had just gotten up when the world seemed to erupt in green light and a roar of rushing air pounded their little hut. It shook, and she dove on top of her boys, covering them with her body, but somehow the communal hut stayed up.

She briefly heard automatic weapon fire, but it stopped after a minute. For the next hour she listened, first with alarm and then with the dull fear that had surrounded her since they had been seized. Sleep claimed her long after her children had fallen to it, and when it did come, it was fitful and uneasy.

The morning light showed the blast's effects. The huts nearest them were barely standing, but beyond them most had been flattened. As horrible as that was, though, the day looked to go downhill.

She and her children were herded outside, and she nearly sobbed as they were lined up. Visions of executions dancing in her head. It was with relief that she was roped together, hands and waists, to the others but soon fears began to once again reign - fears of interminable marches into the unknown where they would never be found again.

It was only for her children that Sheila managed to keep herself together.

She watched with dread as one of their captors climbed into the truck to start it up. She couldn't imagine how many miles they might have to walk.

Fwa-whoomph!

Suddenly the truck exploded in flames! The next several minutes were never anything more than a blur to her - explosions rocked the encampment. It seemed like there must be hundred of people throwing grenades! The rebels were in chaos - some randomly shooting into the jungle. Others getting blown apart by grenades.

A much larger explosion, more like dynamite, sounded and that seemed to send everyone flying after the remaining truck that was rolling away from the camp as quickly as it could. The smaller explosions seemed to continue blasting around for another couple minutes until it suddenly stopped.

She and the other kidnappees huddled together between their two huts, still tied by their ropes.

As the silence stretched on, they began to stand up.

Suddenly a voice sounded out from the camp! Singing! English!

"Wild thing! Na na nana! You make my heart sing!

"You make everything groovy, wild thing!

"Wild thing, I think I love you

"But I wanna know for sur-r-r-r-e!"

Around from one of the few standing huts the singer appeared. A tall man dressed in dark camouflage, black facepaint, and singing into his machine gun.

"Come on and hold me tight!

"I love you! Wild thing!"

Sheila could feel the world swimming around her, and she couldn't do anything but stare at the man walking casually toward them.

"Hey campers! Como estas? Things hunkydory?"

Sheila couldn't take it any more.

She fainted into welcome oblivion.

* * *

The day had been spent by alternately getting the former kidnap victims arranged for a stay of unknown duration, and patrolling the jungle and road in case of returning fighters. The patrols were also handy as an excuse to leave the captives and their questions.

He was amused to find the family of the VP who had hired Blackbriar. He made sure to tell her he was from Blackbriar. He figured his bosses would appreciate that.

She had immediately peppered him with questions and he regretted opening his mouth.

He had just been there to watch over her while the ransom was made.

Yes, Blackbriar was very serious about providing the best possible protection.

He had a partner who was contacting people to take her to safety.

No, Blackbriar hadn't felt it necessary to send a larger team.

There was imminent danger to the kidnappees, so he had needed to act as he had.

Whoops, look at the time - time for another patrol!

Teal'c returned that evening, bringing the larger radio system with him.

"Government forces are coming soon. I was told that your employer is sending people as well."

Jon nodded in relief. The people were getting restless and surrounding him with questions whenever he appeared.

"How about us?"

"We are to be beamed up after they arrive."

"Beamed up? Not 'ringed' up?"

"Yes. The Prometheus has been improved by the Asgard."

"Sweet!"

"We are to report to the SGC."

Jon tapped his wrapped weapon. "They'll love to see this."

"ColonelCarter was most eager to examine it."

Jon's stomach gave a flop.

Teal'c rested his hand on Jon's shoulder.

"I shall inform the former captives of their impending return."

Jon nodded. This would probably mean a lot of talking with Sam. It had been hard seeing her for a few minutes in DC. Spending time talking?

'_I hope ..._'

Jon wasn't sure what he hoped.

* * *

**A/N: Whew. I thought of trying to chop that up a little, but it is very much a single chunk. Getting that much out that quickly means there are probably a lot of missed items, so sorry. Let me know and I'll fix 'em.**

**edit: Thank you TamaraJagellovsk for pointing out some tense mistakes and ebineez01 for some Jon/Jack mistakes!**


	17. To Make Her Laugh

**This one's not huge, but it does have some bits of Jon and Sam, and I know there are a few of you who are pulling for some Jon/Sam stuff. For those who are hoping for Jon/Sam, this might be just the beginning. For those who are pulling Jon and someone else, maybe this is as far as it goes between Jon and Sam.**

**Hopefully you'll enjoy even if it is a shorter chapter. The next chapter is written, but not yet edited. It is sort of short as well, but it sets things up and moves things along. Hopefully these hints are torture. :-D**

* * *

**August 9th, 2009, Stargate Command, Cheyenne Mountain**

Jon was nervous. When he had first sat down to begin filling out forms, the pen in his hand had started being 'twiddled' with. Two hours later and thirty minutes after the last form had been completed, it was moving in a blur, rolling and flipping between his fingers in an intricate, ever-shifting pattern.

The odd energy weapon had been picked up by scientists once he had beamed down to the SGC, and he had started filling out forms. An hour and a half of filling out forms. Apparently the forms he had filled out when he had left the SGC weren't enough.

Now, he was waiting for the Colonel to arrive. He smiled at that. Years ago he had been the Colonel and Sam had been the Major. Now, "the Colonel" would be in to see him and he knew he wouldn't be seeing his own ugly mug walk through the door.

Eventually. Some day.

The pen arched up, spinning in a blur before smoothly slipping back between his fingers to continue its spinning patterns.

Sam.

He loved her, but it had been a long time, and he had tried to set it aside. Meeting her in DC had been a bit difficult, but it hadn't been for long. A longer time talking to her would be … he wasn't sure.

He passed the pen to his left hand, keeping the spinning motion and trying a few different tricks, trying to distract himself from his boredom and his thoughts.

He heard the door open and he stood up quickly, heart beating and pen forgotten. The pen, bereft of its guidance, shot across the table and skipped across the floor.

Lieutenant Colonel Samantha Carter looked down at the pen and then up to Jon with a smile.

"Carter!"

"Hello Jon."

Jon felt the room light up as she grinned, picking up the pen and tossing it back to him.

"Working on your pen combat skills?"

He shrugged. "Ah, ya' never know. Like they say, 'the pen is mightier than the sword but not quite as good as a gun.'"

She giggled a little, and Jon's stomach lurched. It was such a familiar sound.

"Well, I'll see if General Landry will add 'pen combat' to our training roster."

Jon drank in the sight of her and just smiled.

Their eyes met and Sam blushed before looking away.

"I'm sorry it took me so long to see you. The Gate was having problems. We were getting shunted off to random addresses. It turns out that there was a gravitational anomaly - an uncharted black hole - that was throwing off the destination. I think that there are two possibilities - the Stargate has built in safety protocols and randomly re-routes the subspace path to a safer destination, or the subspace distortions of the gravitational well warp the wormhole's path through subspace to … ."

Sam paused with a puzzled look on her face and Jon pulled his mind out of the pleasant haze of watching her talk.

"What?"

"Well, usually General O'Neill would have interrupted me by that point."

Jon shrugged. "Usually you're either in a crunch, meeting, or there's something else he wants to do. Right now, I've got nowhere to be and …"

Jon paused. His habits choking his words off. He forced himself to go on - he wasn't Jack and he didn't have to limit himself by the rules.

"... and I missed this. You."

Once again their eyes met and this time communication flowed back and forth.

Sorrow. Longing. Regret.

"Jon. I, I'm sorry. I really can't imagine how hard it must have…"

He waved her off with.

"Ah! What's done is done, and there wasn't a better way to do things. I'm … doing pretty well, actually. It took a while to sort things out, but I'm doing … yeah, well."

He needed to reassure her. He couldn't bear the thought that she was feeling pain because of him.

"But you miss some of the old things?"

He nodded, then shrugged. This was getting a bit too serious for his comfort. He could be more open than Jack, but it still wasn't comfortable.

"Maybe some things. Danny rattling on about rocks is one of the things I don't miss so much," he said with a grin.

A lie, but it made her smile.

"Some things have changed around here, but I don't think that's one of them."

He noticed she wasn't using, "Sir".

"Dang it. I'd better get out of here before I start getting an update of the last five years of dusty rocks."

Sam laughed, and Jon's heart clenched a little. Clear and delighted. He always had done anything to hear that laugh.

"Well before you get to leave, I do have a few things I'd like to discuss."

Uh oh. She was getting her soldier tone back. He wasn't sure he was going to like this.

"Let me catch you up with a bit of background about the Ori."

She sat down across from him, and Jon's stomach began to sink as she spoke. The goa'uld were nothing compared to these people. Hell, even the Replicators seemed to pale in comparison.

When the 'Supergate' was mentioned, Jon's stomach plummeted. So much for Earth's big, honkin' space gun. These Ori were more advanced than the Asgard, and Earth's ships would be so much chaff.

"So what do you need. I'll do it."

Sam looked at him with a small smile that almost seemed sad.

"Jon, I - I don't know."

Jon blinked. Sam? Not knowing how to solve something? With other people, a simple statement of "I don't know" wouldn't be anything noteworthy. The way she had said that, though - she completely didn't know even how to begin stopping the Ori. But this was Sam! She knew everything!

Sam winced as she looked at Jon's gaping mouth. She pushed back from the table and paced.

Jon knew this was bad. Really, really bad. He paced. Sam didn't pace.

"I have ideas, but they aren't going to mean anything in the long run. We're shooting spitballs at battleships here. I can figure out how to get more spitballs. Maybe even bigger spitballs, but I just don't know. The Ori are Ascended. They make physics sit up and bark."

He could tell a little of what was bothering her - physics was her world. An immovable object she could trust. She might not understand it all, but the absolute reliance on its constancy was how she operated and made her brilliant guesses that had saved their lives so many times. And now, physics could be broken.

Jon stood up and grabbed Sam's shoulders, forcing her to stop talking and pacing.

"Sam. I don't know how, but we'll make it. If we need to slow them down with spitballs until you develop an Ori-buster bomb or some superweapon that ties their Ascended tails into knots and sends them packing, then that's what we'll do.

"What can I do to help with the spitballs? I'll have you know that no one, and I mean no one, has shot more spit balls in class than Jonathan James O'Neill. Just ask Mrs. Warshawski from sixth grade."

He was graced with a smile. It was small, but it was real.

"Thanks, Jon. There are actually a few ideas, for whatever good they'll -"

"Ah!" Jon interrupted her again. "None of that now, Carter."

"Yes sir."

She stepped back and squared her shoulders.

"We need more people. We're building more ships, and we need to staff them with cleared and trained people. Cleared military people since they're going to be in serious combat. We just don't have enough available.

"So, General O'Neill has pushed through some plans for pulling off people from our off-world bases."

Jon opened his mouth to object, but Sam overrode him.

"Not shutting down the bases, just pulling people. Especially combat people. We still need to protect the sites, though, so we're going to bring in private contractors."

Things clicked. Jon began to smile.

"You sent Teal'c out on a scouting mission with awfully open parameters."

He looked at her and she averted her gaze quickly.

"Hmmm," he kept looking at her, but everything other than him had suddenly become very interesting to her. "And I just got pulled back into the Stargate world."

She still didn't look at him, and his smirk grew. '_That's my genius!_'

"And who knows about the Stargate program, has clearances, and is already an employee of a large security company?"

Sam sighed and looked up at him, smiling. "Some hotshot kid I've heard of might fit the bill."

"Kid? I'll have you know I'm still sixteen years older than you, at least in here," Jon tapped his head.

Sam laughed a little. "That's what you think. You've changed a lot, Jon, but you're still twelve years old up there and you always will be."

"Ack! Carter! I'm hurt! I'm wounded! I've made it to at least fifteen!"

Sam looked skeptically at him.

"Well-l-l-l-l-l, fourteen?"

"Hmmmm, if you say so, sir."

Jon plopped down in his chair, arms crossed in a pout.

"If you take this on, I might be willing to concede to fourteen."

Jon sat up. "Cake. There's got to be cake, though!"

* * *

An airman knocked on the door to meeting room six.

SG-1 was due to leave for P3X-584 in a half hour, and they were already getting geared up. Lt. Colonel Mitchell had sent him to collect their wayward scientist. He had first tried her lab, but had been told she was speaking with someone in meeting room six. He was new to the program and was nervous interrupting the great woman in what was certainly an important meeting.

He heard the words as he poked his head in - "... to be cake, though!"

He was shocked to see Lieutenant Colonel Samantha Carter, savior of the world, collapse into a chair with gales of laughter and a young civilian lean back with arms behind his head and a big grin on his face.


	18. Locked Room Mystery

**Ahh. Good weekend and lots of work outside. So, not so much time available for editing and writing. Still, new chapter! Yay!**

* * *

**August 10th, Blackbriar Headquarters, Washington DC.**

The next day, Jon walked into the front lobby of the office building, and strode through the lobby. Jon nodded to the front desk receptionists on his way to the elevators. Their suddenly burst of whispering and nods barely registered.

He had to sell this to the owner, because he really, _really_ wanted to be going back through the Stargate. Honestly, if it wasn't Blackbriar that picked up this contract, which was theirs for the taking, he would go join whatever company did get it.

He had barely had a chance to see Teal'c, Sam, and Daniel before they had stepped through the gate. He wasn't sure about the Cameron Mitchell kid, but he could tell their teamwork was smooth and comfortable. He hoped the kid was up to protecting his team. If anything happened to them, he'd kick the kid's ass all over the mountain.

He stepped out of the elevator and stopped. Virtually everyone from this floor was standing in the area in front of the elevator, just staring at him.

He looked at them with confusion. "Um … was I supposed to pick up donuts?"

Tex, stepped forward, and started to reach out his hand, but then paused, uncertain. It was an odd sight on the normally confident operative.

"We" He cleared his throat. "We saw the video."

"Video?"

"The team that picked up Mrs. Garrison took videos and interviewed her."

Jon's stomach began to sink. They had probably gotten lots of video of the alien ship. It had seemed like the people on board the Prometheus were planning to handle it. '_Well, I guess we'll try to read them all in sooner than anticipated._'

"Did you really do that all yourself?"

It took a second to work out what he was talking about. Oh. '_Dammit. I wish they had seen the alien craft, now._'

Jon shrugged. 'I had help.'

"One person who wasn't even there until long afterward." Tex's voice was flat.

"Actually he was there at the beginning, too. He had to leave after the initial blast. Really it wasn't that big of a deal."

He hated this. If they could have only waited a few more days, some of them could have been read in and he wouldn't have to dance around things so much.

Chase, the recruiter who had hired him, silently held up a large photo. The village was half flattened, other huts blown apart, and the ground looked like it had been chewed up by a heavy bombardment. Smoke could be seen from some of the huts. A dozen dead bodies were visible in the photo, sprawled across the ground, automatic weapons beside them.

"At least fifty guerilla fighters were there, and from what we heard, only half of them were alive after you hit this place. Not even one of the kidnapped people got so much as a scratch. Five minutes after our guys arrived, fifty Marines suddenly walked out of the jungle without a spot of mud on them and started searching the rubble. Shoved everyone else up the road to wait."

Tex looked at him with puzzlement and perhaps a touch of fear.

"What - who are you?"

Jon squeezed his eyes shut tightly wishing it would go away. He hated this.

"It's … it's classified. But!" Jon tried to reassure them, "That's part of why I'm here to talk with Mr. White - we might be getting some work in that … classified stuff. Maybe."

They'd better take this work. If this kept up, Jon wasn't sure he could take it. He _hated_ this sort of notoriety.

"Look, I need to go talk with Mr. White."

The crowd parted silently, and Jon walked through, the silence a stronger wall between him and them than the most powerful forcefield.

He had almost reached Alphonso White's admin's desk when his office door burst open, "Jon!"

The man grasped Jon's hand and Jon welcomed the physical contact. It was a relief after the reactions of the others. White hadn't been in the military and had never seen combat, so Jon guessed he hadn't really appreciated things.

"I've been looking at the videos all day! Mr. Garrison is overjoyed to have his family back! Thank you so much! I had no idea your trip was involved with the kidnappings!" He closed the door behind Jon. "You've got to tell me the whole story! Mrs. Garrison's account was pretty wild! Blackbriar has gotten quite a boost from your actions - I want to hear it all!"

"Actually sir, there's a much bigger issue. One that I think you'll like. A lot.

"The details are classified, so I can't give you much, but basically the military needs a lot of site protection. I … well I have some connections with them, and when I got pulled in on this," Jon gestured to a television where a video of the village was paused, "they used the opportunity to let me know what they needed. I wasn't able to speak for the company, but they said that if we can handle the requirements, the contract is ours."

Alphonso leaned back, considering what Jon had said.

"So the classified stuff you just did was only incidental to the kidnapping?"

Jon nodded.

"But the Army - "

"Actually, the Air Force. Er, well it probably falls under - well, that's classified until you get read in."

"Ok, the Air Force, needs highly classified - your type of classified - site protection?"

Jon nodded again.

"And the contract is ours if we want it?"

"Yes."

The man in front of Jon paused and Jon could almost hear the wheels spinning. He was a decent man as far as Jon could tell, but even if he weren't, the profits would pull him in.

"Tell me the truth, Jon." Alphonso paused, carefully selecting his words. "How much of this opportunity is for them to get _you_ back with them?"

"They need base protection. Minimum of a few hundred people. I don't actually know how many people they need. I - well, I'm probably why Blackbriar is being offered this instead of someone else, but they really do need this.

"There's more that you won't be read into, but this shift in their stance is important. Really, really important. They need this to start happening yesterday."

"A few hundred? What sort of threats?"

"It's going to be all or nothing defense. It's very, very remote and wild. Camp security and natural dangers will be most of the day to day stuff, but what they really need the defense for is if the shit hits the fan. If it does, you're going to be dealing with full battlefield conditions."

Jon held up his hand as Mr. White was about to interject.

"I can also tell you this - if the shit really does hit the fan, every one of those guys out there," he pointed back at the offices, "would gladly and cheerfully give their lives to protect what's going on there. I know it's outside the typical 'protection' services we offer, but this is worth it on every level from financial to moral, I can promise you that."

Alphonso White stayed still, face wooden, and Jon held his breath. Suddenly a smile broke out.

"This is something that I'm going to be regretting for the rest of my life if I say no. We're in. We'll make it work. What now? How do we start getting our people cleared for this?"

A wave of relief rushed through Jon and he let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.

"I need to call someone, and let them know. Their people will probably be here within a couple hours."

"Use my phone!"

Jon grabbed the phone and dialed a number he had been given. A secretary answered.

"I need to talk with General O'Neill. Bart Simpson. I repeat, code word Bart Simpson."

Ten seconds later an oh so familiar voice sounded in Jon's ear.

"_Bart? Is that you?_"

"Shove it ya' old geezer. My group is in. Send in the troops to get things rolling."

"_Watch it puppy dog or I'll stick you in the dog house._"

"Yeah, yeah. Anything I should do?"

"_Um, looks like they have a SCIF on the fourth floor. Gather their necessary guys there. I'll send over the NDAs for them to sign. They don't sign, they can't be in the SCIF. I'll give them two hours to sign and gather. We'll show up in a flash._"

"Got it."

"_Hey, Jon._" Jack's voice paused. "_Thanks._"

Jon felt a weird sense of relief and pride go through him. "Ya' sure. You bet'cha."

As he hung up he saw Alphonso's expression - the very picture of confusion. Jon smirked.

"General O'Neill? Relative?"

"Uncle."

A fax machine in the corner began to hum and Alphonso jerked in surprise.

"That'll be the NDAs that need to be signed. Get the necessary people for initial planning signed up and gathered in the SCIF within two hours. Gotta be signed in to be in the SCIF."

Secretly Jon was impressed. He hadn't known about the SCIF and that fax machine had started humming pretty darned quickly! He wasn't about to let it show, though.

Alphonso goggled at Jon for a moment and bellowed. "Marie! Get Darryl, Marcus, Tex, Mike, and …."

Jon backed out of the way as an explosion of activity descended on the office.

He faded away and out the door.

Tex was standing in the little waiting area. He walked up to Jon but Jon spoke first. "Looks like you're about to fall down the rabbit hole, Tex. Start planning on large scale base security against serious military threats."

"Your type of stuff?"

Jon nodded.

"Sign the stuff. Be in the SCIF in two hours."

Tex returned Jon's nod.

"Something tells me my world is about to get turned upside down."

"Universe, Tex. Your universe is getting turned upside down."

An admin ran over with a thick stack of papers.

"Tex, Mr. White says you need to sign these and be in the SCIF in thirty minutes."

The laconic Texan started to read the NDA and Jon stopped him.

"Don't bother. It's way worse than any other NDA - you will be executed if you break it - literally. But it doesn't matter. You want this. You really, _really_ want in on this."

Jon met Tex's stare for several seconds and then nodded. He grabbed the pen and started flipping through the pages, signing as quickly as he could.

* * *

Two hours later, nine people including Jon were gathered in the SCIF with signed NDAs in front of them. A snack and coffee tray had been set up. They had been there for over an hour, and Jon had given them his best estimates on what sort of job this was going to be. He hadn't given any truly classified information, but he had been a lot more free with phrases like "Threats with capabilities far in advance of our own."

Darryl, their head contracts officer, was looking slightly ill at the costs associated with the estimates. Chase from recruitment was also there and was beginning to sweat at the thought of suddenly pulling together several hundred combat and support people for extended duration, isolated missions in unknown locations.

Jon was glancing at the clock. He had insisted that the SCIF doors be locked. He suspected he knew how this was going to happen and had waved aside Alphonso's concerns about being ready to greet people in the lobby.

1330\. Almost two hours on the button.

Jon began to tense.

Tex and Mike, the two operational chiefs, and not coincidentally the people with the most recent combat experience, noticed Jon's tension and their alertness heightened.

FLASH!

A strobe of brilliant white lights went off in the room! Several people jumped and began to swear, but their voices almost instantly cut off.

In a locked room, right before their eyes, Brigadier General Jack O'Neill had suddenly appeared with four other officers behind him.

"Greetings gentlemen, I am General Jack O'Neill, head of Homeworld Security. Consider me the White Rabbit. We're about to go tumbling down the wormhole."

The entire room just stared dumbstruck at the sudden appearance.

Jon leaned back in his chair and smirked.

Jack returned his smirk with one of his own.

* * *

**A/N: Come on. You so totally know that Jack would absolutely LOVE pulling stunts like that!**


	19. A Twisted Web We Weave

**Thanks for the reviews! Yes, Jon and Jack have always had a prankster streak in them, and there was no way Jack would possibly pass over the chance to pull something like that!  
**

**It might say something weird about me that in the last chapter I had more hesitation about having the fax show up so quickly on Blackbriar's president's fax machine than I did about having Jack teleport into a locked room. Government offices are NOT that fast, but since it had been worked out a bit ahead of time I went ahead with it. Teleportation? No problem! Speedy faxes? Pfft - that's just silly. :-D**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

**August 17, 2009, Colorado Springs, Colorado**

Jon was just about all ready.

Apartment rental in DC dropped. Car and extra belongings in storage. Personal belongings to take to the Alpha site were packed.

The personal stuff had been the easy part, though. He had become the go-to man for Blackbriar's Alpha project, as it had been named. Every team leader and project manager who had been read into the project had been asking him for every little detail he could remember and his advice for what they would need.

For some reason Cheyenne Mountain had gone into lockdown without any communication in or out. Jon didn't know what the issue was, and as he told the nervous people who asked him, it could be anything from a fast-growing plant to a full-blown invasion of the body-snatchers.

Finally the Mountain had opened up again, and while they hadn't been officially told the reason why, he had gotten Daniel's number and started bugging him until he had admitted it had been a de-thawed project of Anubis that had been causing problems. That new kid, Mitchell, had touched something and de-frosted him. Dumb kid.

He quickly spent ten minutes making a handout, and then called a briefing for everyone on the Blackbriar team.

Here are the types of different scripts you might see and how to treat them.

English: safe unless it looked like 'science-y'. Then don't touch.

Jaffa: don't touch.

Goa'uld: really don't touch.

Asgard: really, REALLY don't touch.

Ancient: touch it and I will beat you to death, toss you in a sarcophagus, then drag you out to ram a pain stick up your ass.

If something isn't mentioned on the above list: DON'T TOUCH.

Jon hoped the message got through.

Now it was two days until go-time, and he was finally at loose ends - the project commanders were still running around like chickens with their heads cut off, but he had left for Colorado a few days early just to escape their constant queries.

His phone still buzzed every few minutes. It was worse than Cassie panicking over a test!

He found himself sitting at the bar at O'Malley's, nursing a Guinness. The bartender had looked at him funnily, but hadn't said anything. Jon remembered seeing the guy before.

Team nights at O'Malley's. It was an old pang, and it … it almost felt good. Memories of wonderful times. Faint regret that they wouldn't happen any more, but he wasn't feeling the anger and frustration he once felt every time old reminders reappeared.

His time with Teal'c had been pure gold. He had seen Sam, and it had been … good. Really good. Had even talked with Daniel a bit.

He had a different life, but he wasn't pining away for the old life anymore. He felt more rooted, now. Maybe it was being able to reconnect, at least a little, to his old friends. Maybe it was being able to go through the Stargate again - his stomach clenched in anticipation just at the thought.

Stepping through would-

"Jon!"

He looked up to see Cassie walking toward him with a huge smile on her face.

"What are you doing here, mister?"

Jon caught her up in a hug.

"I'm, uh, heading out of town. What are you doing here?"

She ignored his question and her eyes went wide in surprise.

"Through the, I mean, way out of town? How? I thought you were-"

Jon interrupted her stream of questions. "One at a time! One at a time!

"First, though, what are you doing here? I thought you were at school already."

Cassie paused, looking uncertain and glanced at the wall separating the bar and the dining area. "Well, I was going, but, well, the S-, er, base was on lockdown until just a couple days ago, but you probably know that and," Cassie swallowed nervously, "Sam and I had wanted to get together one last time before college started, so I, we, are, you know, enjoying my last day of freedom."

"Sam's here?"

Jon's heart rate picked up a little.

"Yeah, we're over against the wall. I'm just taking a quick break. You could come join us. You know. If you wanted. You don't have to if you're busy of something."

Jon smirked a little at the girl's nervousness. She was probably pushing nineteen, so she wasn't really a little girl anymore, but she hadn't hit adulthood either.

"Actually, I saw Sam about a week ago, just before the lockdown. That's a big part of why I'm heading way out of town."

"Oh. I see."

Jon could quite interpret her, but could make a guess. That he was, er, well, that _Jack_ was pretty very fond of Sam wasn't exactly the best kept secret in the galaxy. So Cassie was probably over-thinking it. Jon sighed internally. He'd try to keep Cassie at ease.

"I'll definitely stop over and say 'hi'."

"Ok." It wasn't Cassie's most cheerful sound, but it would do.

"See you in a minute. I'll go see Sam."

Jon tried to keep his voice level, but he could feel his gut tighten a little. He had worked hard last time to keep it friendly and un-awkward. It had helped that it was very much a 'work' meeting. This was a lot more casual.

He glanced down at his jeans and t-shirt. It wasn't bad. He looked at Cassie's retreating form - a very pretty skirt and top of some sort looked a bit dressed up. Sam was probably dressed up too.

He blew out a breath and grabbed his beer before heading over.

It took him a moment to spot her, but the bright blond hair helped. His stomach continued to flip-flop as he walked closer. He couldn't help swallowing and slowing a little as he came up. He noted she tensed, probably sensing someone approaching and he spoke quickly.

"Hey there Carter."

She spun around, "Ja-! Er, Jon!"

It hurt to see the smile dim as she realized who it was. It brightened back up to that gorgeous, beautiful grin, but that first smile…

"I'm in town, enjoying a beer before heading out, and who should I run into but Cassie."

"Yeah, she was supposed to head back to school yesterday, but she waited until I was able to … get off work."

Jon's smile was wry. "Well, from what I hear that was a hell of a reason for a lockdown."

Sam's eyes went wide. Inquisitive.

Jon smirked a little. Shrugged.

Sam smiled. Nodded.

Their eyes met and held for a long moment before Jon broke away.

He could see the signs of a deep exhaustion. She might have had a good night's sleep last night, but there was exhaustion beyond the purely physical there.

'_Keep it casual. Nothing crazy._'

"How are you doing, Carter?"

It slipped out of Jon's mouth before he could stop it. He had been looking for something to break the moment, not dive in deeper.

"Oh," she shrugged. "No solutions yet, but I have some ideas. I think our best bet is to look at _ancient_ history. I'm trying to …"

She cut herself off and Jon could read her thoughts - '_Not the time or place._' He agreed, but still …

"Hey, don't get stressed on this. Don't forget our secret-leaking friend. He's got lots of experience with ancient history. Sick him on that problem. You figure out how to make physics your bitch."

She laughed and the world began to slow down for Jon.

Jon could see things all of a sudden. _That Jack_ wasn't around and he was. The possibility of his old life was right here in front of him. He could be with Sam without any rules in the way. The future opened up as a tactical battlefield, and he was a master of the battlefield.

He and Sam weren't going to be seeing each other enough to build anything right now, but some groundwork. He'd need to get stationed in the Mountain somehow or somewhere they'd be able to see each other more often than once every six months. He could figure something out.

The strain as he and Jack struggled for Sam wouldn't be fun, but he would win. Especially if he played a bit dirty. Jack had some insecurities he knew exactly how to exploit, and Jack was a noble bastard. He'd step aside for Sam's happiness.

Age. Demons. Career. Propriety. Those were all in Jack's way, but not Jon's. Stand those up in front of Jack while making sure Jack knew Sam was going to be happy, and Jon could build something with Sam without Jack butting in.

But, Jon wasn't really the one Sam loved.

That was a weird thing to admit - he had shoved down that dream as a wild fantasy for ten years, but now he could finally realize that it was true.

'That _Jack spent the last five years actually with her. Not me. She's in love with him._'

Jon could still see the tactics playing out on the relational battlefield that was so much more complicated than any combat, and he thought that maybe, just _maybe_ she would truly love him, Jon, for himself someday. Maybe. But, right now she loved _Jack_ and breaking them apart would hurt her even if Jon might be able to make her happy himself, someday.

Sam in pain.

With utter certainty, he suddenly knew he would not engage in that fight. He might not be Jack, but he had his own honor. He would not exploit another person's pain for his own personal gain.

That much hadn't changed. He wouldn't hurt Sam.

And with that, the tactical tree simplified.

As it was, with Jack absent, the possibility was remaining open for him to take, constantly tempting him. He wasn't sure he wouldn't weaken someday, so he would have to close that avenue of possible attack.

"Well, I appreciate your confidence, Jon. I'll pull out the whips and get to work."

Sam's eyes sparkled with laughter as the world suddenly reappeared to Jon's perceptions.

He wouldn't follow that path. That chiming laugh cut deep, but he'd made his decision. This was for the best.

"Don't forget you have a team, Sam. More importantly, don't forget you have friends. Daniel, Teal'c, Jack."

'_Cut off the whole branch of possibilities. Simplify the battlefield. Remove dangerous areas._'

"Especially Jack."

Sam looked shocked and slightly uncomfortable at Jon's sudden shift in tone and his direct mention of Jack.

Jon pressed ahead. "I talked with Jack and he misses you. Not in so many words, but," Jon shrugged with a smirk, "I know him pretty well. He's floundering without you. Ten years of holding things in makes it hard for him to change. Things have to be pretty direct with him."

"Thank you Jon, but -"

Sam trailed off, speechless for a moment.

"No buts. He's not me and I'm not him and all that delightfully confusing stuff, but I do like the old geezer. He's miserable without you. He just doesn't know how to move out of the rut you guys spent ten years building. He needs some help from your side."

Jon put on a grin, and was surprised to realize it wasn't forced. Well, not _too_ forced.

Sam bit her lip. He could almost follow her thoughts across her face. Indecision. Longing. Fear. Hope.

It was time for him to step out of her way.

"And now that I've dropped that little bomb, I'd better get out of here and let you and Cassie enjoy the rest of your day."

She was still speechless and Jon put his hand on her shoulder and gave a light squeeze. "Enjoy your day, Carter."

With that he left. If his spin was a little faster than normal, no one would notice.

… and it let him catch a flash of a bright skirt disappear behind the wall separating the bar and dining areas.

'_Well, well, well._'

He walked casually that way and rounded the wall to see Cassie walking his way apparently coming from the restrooms. He wasn't sure he would have noticed the slight flush on her cheeks, but the odd look the bartender was giving her was a dead giveaway.

'_We'll have to work on that sneakiness._'

"Hey Cassie, I need to head off. My phone has been buzzing like crazy and I have a dozen calls to return."

She gave a moue disappointment. "Are you sure? I didn't expect to see you, but it's been forever and I don't want to just pass by if we aren't going to see each other for who knows how long."

He shook his head. "Naw. You don't wanna miss your day with Sam." He glanced her way and saw her looking at him. He waved and she nodded back to him.

She knew he was talking with Cassie. She would have another minute to think and put herself back together to continue Cassie's fun day. He hoped the bomb he had dropped on her wouldn't mess up her time with Cassie - he hadn't planned it, but now that he'd said it, he wanted to give her a bit more time to process before Cassie returned to her.

"Well, no, but …"

He sighed and gave up. He would like to spend some time with Cassie. He hadn't seen her for months and texts just weren't the same.

"Well, I'm going to be busy until pretty late, but text me after your day is over and we'll grab some ice cream."

She grinned at him and it struck him again that she was growing into a beautiful young lady. He'd have to quiz her about boyfriends. He'd try to meet the kid when he was next on Earth. Make sure he treated Cassie right.

"Sounds great! All right, I'll text you later, Jon."

"Looking forward to it. Now go enjoy your day with Sam!"

Cassie laughed and headed toward Sam with a mock, "Yes sir!"

Jon nodded bye to Sam and headed out the door.

He still had some work to do.

Not just with Blackbriar, though.

* * *

Jon arrived at this hotel room, having planned things out on his way.

The call picked up on the first right.

"Hello, how may I help you?"

"General O'Neill, please."

"I can check to see if he's available. Who is calling?"

"Jon."

"One moment."

Thirty seconds passed before the woman's voice came back.

"He'll be with you in a minute. Please hold."

Jon sighed. Give the guy a star and a fancy title and it went straight to his head!

Two minutes later, Jack's familiar voice came on.

"You in trouble again?"

"Nope. You are."

"Tell this trouble to go to the back of the line."

"I think you'll want to bump her up a little."

Jack's voice which had been bantering suddenly became deadly serious.

"What's wrong? She okay?"

"Yes and no. You know her - she's overworking herself and feels like it's her against the universe. She might be our only hope, but she's close to cracking under the strain."

He heard Jack let out a breath. "She's got the team with her."

Jon wished he could smack his older self.

"They aren't quite what she needs, Jack. She is … well, she's tired enough that she let a couple things slip."

Jon was glad there was a phone between them now. It was a lot easier this way.

"She misses you Jack."

There was a long silence before Jack came back, "I need to head out there anyway. I'll make sure to spend an evening."

"Nope. That room. She doesn't want it kept in the room anymore." They both knew there was only one room.

"That's ridic-"

"Jack!" Jon cut him off. "I think she's an idiot too. But it's eating her from the inside out. She …"

The next words hurt. '_It's for the best._'

"... She still loves you Jack, but she thinks you don't love her anymore, and it's ripping her apart."

"That's ridiculous," Jack exploded again. "Of course I still -"

Jack caught himself and Jon smiled in victory.

'_Just reel him in._'

"She admitted she was having trouble concentrating, and we need her brain at work on this Ori issue. I think you're the one to solve this. I'd advise strong and direct action. It will be returned."

Jack was silent, and Jon could almost feel the turmoil. He knew just what would bump Jack over the edge.

Jon let the silence drag on before finally speaking again.

"Jack," he spoke softly. "We need Carter at full speed for humanity to survive. If you aren't going to do anything, I will. She's in love with you, but if you refuse to return her love, I'm going to step in and see if I…"

"You goddam little shit!"

Jon held the phone away from his ear and smiled.

"You so much as touch her and I'll twist your head off! I'll stomp your pissy little-!"

Jack continued for another thirty seconds before Jon heard the phone slam down.

'_Hook, line, and sinker!_'

Jon jumped up off the bed of his hotel room and pumped his fist in the air.

"Yeah! Take that old man!"

He refused to think about anything more than the pleasure of his successful manipulations. He was good at shoving thoughts away.

He revelled in his actions for several minutes before beginning to return calls and texts from the Blackbriar teams.

He was still at it three hours later when Cassie texted him. He was still smiling and whistling when it arrived, and the smile only grew.

* * *

Cassie hopped into the taxi and gave the address of the place Jon had given her. Her day with Sam had been a lot of fun, but thoughts of Jon kept sliding in. She knew Jack was nuts about Sam, and the feelings were returned, though they had never been able to date. So if Jon had Jack's memories, was he also in love with Sam?

She had been thrilled when she had recognized Jon at O'Malley's, but as soon as she started to talk about visiting with Sam, she remembered that he might be still in love with her, and … and her face still burned at the memory of how she had stammered through that moment with Jon. Oh god, he must think she was such a ditz! Couldn't even string two words together.

And his voice when he realized Sam was right there sent her heart plummeting.

She had foregone the bathroom and instead peeked around the wall to watch them. She couldn't hear, but it seemed comfortable and funny. Sam laughed and she felt … she still didn't know what she felt, but she didn't like it. Then Jon had spoken and Sam's face had become serious, perhaps a bit shocked, and she could only imagine it was a declaration of love. What else could it be?

And then he'd put his hand on her shoulder and - !

At least she'd been able to duck back out of the way. She would have melted into the floor if he had caught her spying on them!

But after that Jon had left and seemed happy. He wasn't leaving his evening open to meet with Sam, either.

She'd been too curious for her own good and had probably sounded a bit silly, but it worked.

She had subtly pumped Sam about Jon and gotten the basics of what he was doing with the Stargate and the Alpha site. Sam had also talked about how Jon had been recognized for helping to fight off an attack on an Army base in Afghanistan!

He hadn't mentioned that to her! She hadn't even known where he was on his protection. He'd made it sound boring - just hanging around as the guy had meetings. She was going to give him a piece of her mind about not telling her stuff like that!

Sam had also talked about needing to call Jack. She'd flushed a little, even though it wasn't anything odd, and Cassie began to doubt her interpretation of Jon and Sam's conversation. Sam wouldn't be calling Jack if Jon was interested in her.

The taxi pulled up and she almost told the driver he must be in the wrong place.

This was a trendy little coffee shop! What was Jon doing picking a place like this? But, there he was stepping out of a door and walking across the outdoor cafe area, coffee in hand.

As she walked toward him she felt her heart speed up.

Wow. Jeans and a t-shirt had never looked so good! Long legs were casually strolling along and a black t-shirt was just barely shy of being 'stretched' across his chest and arms, but it was a close thing. It wasn't a body builder's look, instead it was a look she recognized from her years of experience with active military - hardened strength of the whole body, not just major muscle groups. There was a lot of definition in those forearms and ...

"Hey Cassie, I'm glad you made it! I felt like some coffee, but they have ice cream here too."

Her mouth went dry. '_Say something!_'

"Sounds great!"

He laughed and her stomach flipped over before tying itself in a knot.

'_That smile!_'

"Is that a yes to both?"

"Yeah. Both."

"What's your poison when it comes to coffee?"

'_Coffee? Oh! A coffee! He wants me to pick a coffee! Pick something!_'

"Yeah, I'll take one."

"Just black?"

"Cream!"

"With cream? Ok. Grab a seat, I'll be right back."

Cassie's eyes were glued to his butt. The jeans ...

Her mouth was getting dry again.

The jeans fit really well.

'_Cassie! Snap out of it! That's … whew. Really hot. Wow he looks good._'

He stepped back inside and she plopped down in the chair nearest to her.

The warm, August day was over and the night was releasing its heat, but she felt flushed.

'_It's Uncle Jack. It's just Uncle Jack inside. He's, like, fifty years old. Just be cool. You had fun in DC and you've texted him tons of times and he's not interested in you so you don't need to be nervous and you won't see him again for six months and he's completely not interested so relax and be cool and don't make an idiot of yourself because it's nothing serious so just talk like casual stuff and ..._'

Jon came back out and Cassie could feel her breath catch again. He was coming right at her with that easy-going smile that turned her to mush.

Afterward she could barely remember anything specific about the evening. They'd talked until the place had closed, sipping on coffee and nibbling at ice cream. Mostly he'd asked her about college and her classes, and stuff, and she kicked herself for blabbering on so much. She hadn't learned much of anything about him.

They'd shared a cab to her house, and it had waited while he walked her to the door before he'd left to go to his motel. When she plopped back on her bed, arms spread wide, she could still feel that last hug - his hard body pressed up against her, and his little kiss on top of her head.

* * *

**A/N: I'm trying to stay _relatively_ close to the show. Jack's rank progression in the show was nuts. I have adjusted that a bit. Nice catch, cwo3neil!**

**LilithL2 - happy? Some Cassie in there for you! Just because you asked. :-D Well, maybe I had already written that part. Maybe. Or maybe I did it just for you.**

**And yeah, I still giggle at Jack's prank in the last chapter and Jon's in this one. I crack myself up. Obviously it doesn't take much to make me laugh.**

**Just in case anyone wonders - Jack's outburst at Jon was out of character in the show (he's not a screaming, threatening sort of person) but I figure that Jon knows just how to push Jack's buttons - like a younger brother who totally drives you nuts, but 100 times worse. Jack never screams and swears at people - he's a great commander - but ya' know, that _Jon_ kid just manages to twist his nose in _just that way_! :-)**


	20. Barely Wiggles the Needle

**Just a short one because stuff is crazy right now. I'm trying to keep things fairly close to the series. There have been a few hints of actual episodes in previous chapters, but this one is pretty obvious. First one to answer the episode gets a free Internet!**

* * *

**September 3, P4X-650, "Alpha Site"**

'_Madhouse._'

Jon knew it wasn't truly a madhouse, but it would fool most people. He appreciated that the Stargate was located inside a mountain for maximum protection, and after the destruction of the previous two Alpha Sites, he couldn't blame them, but it certainly made large-scale transportation a difficult issue.

He'd have to bring that up with the base commander. Digging out a cave closer to the size of an airplane hanger would allow for a better transportation, and would allow for a massive array of defensive emplacements with direct access on the Stargate entrance.

As it was, he watched with a growing depression the traffic jam in the primary hallway to the Stargate room. Three hundred and fifty military personnel were making their way outbound to Earth along with their belongings at the same time Blackbriar was bringing in two hundred twenty people with twenty six tons of equipment and weapons.

Stargate activations in and out were scheduled, but they were widely scheduled for relatively brief times to juggle the dozens of other missions and to ensure there was plenty of downtime for emergency incoming team to get through without being blocked for long stretches of time. It was necessary, but at just over an hour between activations, either incoming or outgoing, there was a _lot_ of waiting involved. The last slot had been outgoing, and that was an hour ago. Incoming would be next - he checked his watch - in fourteen more minutes.

He was standing just inside the hallway, directing the arriving staff as they came, and couldn't leave the mad crush, no matter how much he wished he could.

"You dirty bastard!"

Someone slugged him in the shoulder hard enough to hurt.

'_Too many people,_' he thought with a sigh as he turned. She had been able to walk up behind him without anything triggering his usually sensitive sense of surroundings.

Trisha greeted him with a fierce scowl.

"You were out hopping planets and blasting aliens before you joined Blackwater?"

Jon smirked a little. "You know how it is - classified. Sorry. I couldn't tell anyone."

"I figured you were black ops doing dirty work for the CIA or something. I knew you weren't regular black ops, but galaxy-roaming?!"

Jon gave her a grin. "Eh, it was a job."

Trisha rolled her eyes. "Hell of a job. So, you want to tell me some of the crazy stories you have from running all over the galaxy?"

Jon had realized something like this would happen, and as much as he hated it, he wasn't ready to go spreading his life story around.

He winced regretfully, as much for show as anything.

"My specific missions are still classified."

Trisha's face flickered through emotions: disbelief, irritation, puzzlement.

"You mean to tell me that even within the most classified program on the planet, _your_ stuff is more classified?"

Jon's look of sadness didn't have to be faked. There were so many things that he couldn't share with people, even friends.

He gave a little shrug.

"Damn! You're serious, aren't you?"

He nodded. "There's a lot more going on right now than people know, even people within the Stargate program. There's lots of stuff I don't know either - compartmentalizing information helps stop leaks in case something goes fubar. You'll probably start picking up rumors, but I can't really confirm or deny anything unless it's something that might affect us."

He put his hand on her shoulder and stared into her eyes.

"I hate it. Really hate it. You've got my promise that there's no way in hell that I'd keep something from you guys that might actually be dangerous to you or helpful. Fuck classified on that sort of stuff. But other stuff - well, it's related to just the shit I was dealing with.

"It won't affect us here, but if there's the slightest chance that it will, you have my word that you will all be the first to know."

Trisha's anger seemed to fade as he talked and by the end of it she seemed more saddened than anything.

"Some of the regular black ops guys, back when I was in Afghanistan - they had similar sorts of looks on their faces at times."

She grasped his forearm tightly.

"I trust you. I do. You've got our backs and we've got yours."

She took a deep breath and straightened, stepping away from the serious mood.

"So, when will I get to see my first alien?"

Jon had been looking forward to _this_ part since he had seen her name on the list of staff being pulled in for the program. He smirked and crossed his arms.

"You already have."

"What?" Trisha whipped her head around, trying to spot someone she might have missed. "Where?"

"Remember the morning when we got interrupted at my apartment?"

"Sure. Your buddy from … the …"

Her eyes got wide and her mouth opened and closed a couple times.

"Teal'c?"

The word came out a squeak.

Jon nodded.

"He's a -a-a alien?"

"Born on the planet Chulak. First Prime of a nasty snakehead called Apophis before he joined us Tau'ri. Strongest, bravest, and most trustworthy person you could ever find."

"But, but, we sat and talked. He and I talked. I was talking, right across the table!"

Jon laughed.

"I don't -"

Klaxons suddenly went off. "Unscheduled off-world activation."

Jon immediately started shouting, "Blackbriar, back away! Pack the edges!"

There was no point in trying to get people to exit the hallway - things were moving too slowly. But, pressed back against the walls, there would be some room for movement. He left Trisha and pushed his way into the room.

"Back against the walls. Clear space! Back against the walls!"

The blue whoosh filled the room and the iris slammed shut over the event horizon.

Seconds passed as he pushed the men against the wall, and suddenly the klaxons stopped. "Unscheduled wormhole from Earth."

Jon blew out a breath. '_Whew! Hostiles incoming at this point would have been bad. Really bad._'

Tex made his way over. "What was that about?"

Jon shrugged. "My guess? Emergency message from Earth. If they were sending something through, they would retract the iris. They probably have -"

The Stargate gave a soft whoosh as the wormhold was cut off and the PA system began speaking. "Stargate travel is temporarily suspended. All personnel scheduled for transfer should return to their regular boarding stations. Repeat. Stargate travel is temporarily suspended. All personnel …"

Jon shook his head. That wasn't good.

Several airman stepped out of the door leading to the control room, one of them made a straight line for Tex and Jon.

"Sirs, you're both needed for a briefing in room 8 in five minutes."

"Thank you, airman," Tex replied. "We'll be there."

The airman nodded and turned away.

"Morrison, you're in charge of getting our guys to their quarters. All the equipment needs to be stacked away. We'll worry about setting it up later."

"Sure thing, boss."

The short, fireplug of a man turned away and began following Tex's instructions.

"Welp, let's go see what all the kerfuffle's about."

* * *

Jon didn't like it.

"So that's it, gentlemen. No one is incoming from anywhere until we see if this disease is on other planets too. We're accepting SG teams only on emergency basis. Hopefully Earth will get this disease cleaned up quickly and we'll be back to normal operation procedures, but we're looking at a week or two at least. We're going to be communicating with our teams out in the field, and passing along the news as well as looking for any reports of this disease popping up elsewhere."

General Richards, commander of Alpha base was wrapping up the meeting. Jon appreciated that it had been direct. Well, relatively so.

"So until then: action items.

"Tex, I know your people haven't gotten all their equipment, but start setting up with what you do have. You're still to assume security duty as best you can with your limited materials. You've got most of your people, though.

"Captain James, we'll take the downtime to do additional training and knowledge transfer to the new security teams. SGC isn't sure if this is a random alien bug or if it is targeted at us, so we're at high alert until the situation clears itself.

"Dr. Veeger, when Earth sends their data on this new bug through to us, you guys be ready to jump on top of it and figure out how to kick its ass and where it might be from.

"Any questions?

A pause and heads shook.

"All right. Let's move it."

Tex waited for Jon outside the meeting room.

"Jon, I know that I'm the lead on this, but I'm going to follow your gut on this since you have the experience. Is this bug an attack on Earth?"

Jon knew without a doubt that it was. He bet he could guess the source too - Ori. The nature of the Ori, though, was classified.

"Yeah. A normal sickness doesn't spread like what they described, and if it's coming from where I think it does Earth's going to need a miracle to survive it. But I'm pretty sure we aren't going to get hit by outside attacks. Not yet. I'm more worried about the bug making it through to here."

Tex nodded.

"All right, then. We'll let our people know that there's a possibility of some sickness and to be on the alert for themselves and others. Self-quarantine if anything is suspected. But otherwise, we're going to have a few extra days to pick the brains of the previous security forces. We'll take advantage of that."

"I'll track down the head of their military security and start setting things up."

"Great."

Tex hemmed for a moment before speaking, "Jon?"

It was an oddly tentative tone.

"Yeah?"

"This sort of crazy shit happen often?"

Memories flowed through Jon of what seemed an unending stream of bizarre and world-shattering things the SGC had gone through in the last decade.

"All the time, Tex. All the time."

The man winced as he turned away.

"And Tex, so far this just barely wiggles the needle on the weirdness scale here."

The lanky man didn't turn back, but instead just stayed still for a long second. Finally he nodded and continued on.


	21. Those Christmas Blues

**Possible reader confusion ahead. This one has the order of things shifted around. We get 'current day' first, and then a jump back in time to see what led up to it. I don't want to have it be confusing, but I think it worked out MUCH better this way. The other way around was just not working out.**

**It would have been really awesome if this chapter had come out around Christmas, but such was not to be. So a bit of Christmas in April!**

* * *

**December 24th, 2009, Alpha Site**

Christmas off-planet felt weird.

For one, it was late springtime, almost summer.

Jon sat in the lookout tower and enjoyed the view. He had signed himself up for a double shift to give his men as much time off as he could. The tunnels were covered with tinsel and decorations, and the base was doing its best to celebrate Christmas.

And if the cheer was a bit brittle and overly boisterous, the base heads were turning a blind eye.

Ten days earlier, the entire Gamma Site had been destroyed. Almost everyone except for a few dignitaries and SG1 had been consumed by the damn Prior Bugs. A toxin had been released to kill them, but hundreds had died at Gamma and reports of the things spreading to other planets were coming in.

A month earlier, the _Prometheus_ had been destroyed by the ass-backwards Rand-something or other people. Jon had managed to get into a system he shouldn't have been reading to try to figure out what had happened, and after reading the mission briefing decided that it served 'em right to blow each other to bits, but they'd taken the Prometheus and a lot of good people with it.

Since then, military personnel had been flooding out of the Alpha site, to be replaced with contractors. He guessed he should mind too much, he was one of the contractors, and it was freeing up hundreds of brilliant military staff to work directly in the war effort.

Still, it was pulling the base apart. Contractors to do research was great, but it seemed an awful lot of their attention was in figuring out how to benefit their company with the research. Energy sources, energy storage, biochemical discoveries, new materials - they were almost drooling at the possibilities.

It was all good stuff, but Jon was ready to start smacking heads together to remind them that there is a freaking war going on against ascended beings who might just wipe out or enslave the entire galaxy!

It was almost enough to get him to go back to the military. Join up. Get into the fight directly.

He saw something moving a hundred yards down the hill and straightened up, coming to alert, fingers hovering over his radio to call in an alarm. A dark green shape moved through the trees, its thick shape setting Jon at ease.

Stinker.

It was the planet's bear analog to Jon, though the scientists had explained that it was closer in function to a moose. Almost the size of a moose, but shaped more like a bear, and with a dark green fur. They seemed to eat just about everything - leaves, grass, branches, insects, and even the odd carcass. Generally not aggressive, though Jon had nearly lost a someone when a scientist convinced the base powers to capture one, but the tranquilizers hadn't worked. Fortunately Jon and another team member had traditional weapons and had killed it before it had seriously mangled the scientist.

This bear was their resident pet as most of the creatures didn't seem to be particularly skittish around humans. Bigger than any others they had seen, it was seven feet tall at the shoulders and had been named and declared a male when it had let loose a particularly loud fart a few weeks back.

Jon watched it ramble by, chewing on a small bush it had picked up somewhere.

He had seen Daniel once when he had come out for a few days to examine a ruined tel'tak discovered fifty miles away. Jon and Tex had insisted on a series of ground-based explorations of the wider area. The tel'tak turned out to be close to seven thousand years old, had served some proto-Sumerian sort of Goa'uld, and Jackson had been excited about the development, or lack thereof, of goa'uld technology.

That had been a nice couple days, even with Daniel's jabbering, and Jon had even gotten a few details out of the man. It looked like the team was examining potential Ancient treasures. It had been something about King Arthur that had pulled Jackson away from the ancient tel'tak.

Jon had felt excited when he had first arrived at the Alpha site, and he knew it was valuable work, but he was getting bored. There was a continual high tension, but nothing which anyone one the base could really do. Or at least that's how Jon felt. The corporate researchers certainly didn't seem to be worried about anything beyond how they might be able to monetize their research.

"Sheesh, Jon. Don't be so blue."

He said it out loud, as much to break his mood as anything else. It was a beautiful spring day. Some of the bushes had some flowers with the brightest purple he had ever seen. It was a lovely day! '_Stop moping!_'

Stinker finally disappeared down the hill and Jon settled back.

He grabbed his notepad and started a letter. Communications were allowed back and forth through the Gate, and he had been working on several. Out of boredom. Not loneliness. Just boredom.

Most personnel did emails, but he wasn't in a hurry and preferred writing things down physically.

He opened up to his letter to Cassie. It had been an off-and-on letter, half journal, half letter.

_Seeing all sorts of interesting wildlife here. We have a friendly "bear" in the area that just wandered by. We named him 'Stinker' after he let out a massive fart one day. Yeah, I admit it. I'm only twelve. Don't tell Sam, though. I bargained with her that I would pretend to be at least fourteen while I'm deployed._

He wondered how everyone was doing back on Earth. Militarily he had at least a decent picture of how things were going, and it wasn't great. Other things, like … well, he wanted to know how other things were going.

He had spent five years pushing his old life back, and seeing Sam had reopened longings he had mostly built scar tissue over. It was taking a bit to push those feelings back down.

'_It was the right thing to do and it was the best thing to do,_' he told himself for the hundredth time.

The radio crackled to life.

"This is base. Sound off, ladies and gentlemen."

"Romeo thirty one, all clear."

"Whiskey thirty five, all clear."

"Bravo fourteen, all clear."

"Mike seven, all clear."

"Uniform ninety two, all clear."

Jon and the other bases sounded off with the day's number series all coming in clear. No trouble signaled. While the base had become less rigid in security, Jon knew their security was tighter than it had been before. I had a great deal of pride in that.

"Base acknowledges. Romeo, Whiskey, Bravo, Mike, Uniform, all clear.

"And peoples, we got a personal shipment from home. They're unpacking it all and it should be waiting for you when your shifts end."

Jon smiled. Care packages from home were always good for morale. Especially around Christmas.

He didn't have anything coming, but most of the people here had families back on Earth who would be sending stuff. Good. Maybe that's what the base needed to help cheer up a little.

* * *

Three hours later Jon arrived at his door to see a note pinned on letting him know he had a package waiting for him.

'_Really? Who?_'

No one was coming to mind as likely culprits, and when he got to the mail depot, he was even more puzzled to receive two boxes and a letter. The letter had exactly zero outside markings on it except for his name. The larger box also had zero markings on it except for multiple 'fragile', 'perishable', and 'this side up' notes plastered all over.

'_What the hell?_'

He decided to return to his room to open them and still hadn't guessed at who they were from by the time he arrived.

First the letter.

He groaned as soon as he opened it up. The writing was familiar. Really familiar.

_Asshole,_

_You are lucky you aren't in the military because I would bust you to private and station you in Siberia. Poke your nose into my business again and there won't be enough left of you for a sarcophagus._

_Thanks,_

_Jack_

Jon laughed out loud. That answered how that had gone.

'_That was so … me._'

He carefully opened the larger box and squealed at the sight before clamping his hand over his own mouth in embarrassment.

A cake!

He stared at the little cake, mouth already watering as he considered it. He eventually dragged his eyes off of it to the other item in the box - a small card in an envelope.

He ripped it open and pulled out the card.

He froze.

_Merry Christmas, Jon._

_Teal'c, Daniel, Sam, Jack_

Jon stared at the note. All four of them had separately signed it. Tears began to build in his eyes and he rubbed them away fiercely.

'_They were thinking of me. They … sent me cake. They ..._'

He could feel tears begin to roll down his face and he couldn't bring himself to care.

'_They were thinking of me._'

His fingers trembled as they picked up the simple note. He couldn't do anything more than stare at it, the words blurring in his vision.

'_They were thinking of me._'

He clenched his eyes, pushing out fresh tears to join the others.

For as long as he had been alive, he had been reaching out to his past, trying to connect with it while trying to build a future.

The past had just reached out and connected with him.

His throat began to hurt as he swallowed back his tears, trying to pull himself back together.

He carefully set down the card on his bed and lifted the cake out of its box. He sniffed and smiled - straight from the SGC mess!

He sprinted out of his room, bouncing off corners and sending people diving out of his way as he reached the mess hall in record time. He grabbed a plate, knife, and fork, ignored the queries from the bemused staff and made his way back to his room at only a slightly more sedate pace.

He locked his door behind him and set down the plate carefully on his desk.

He carefully sliced out a quarter of the cake and set it down on the plate. The white, fluffy cake was still moist and its perfume filled his nose.

He reverently pushed the fork through the cake, watching the soft compression and smearing of the thin icing.

Jon closed his eyes as he put the fork in his mouth, and moaned as the sweetness and soft textures caressed his tongue.

"Unhhhhhh. Mmmmmm."

His stomach clenched as he swallowed and a chill ran over his body.

It had been a long, long time.

The cake was half-eaten, Jon had pulled out his special stash of Guinness, and was leaning back in his chair and gazing blankly at the ceiling. Warm memories and happiness filled him as he relaxed, the cares of the world far distant.

He found himself gazing happily at the unopened box, reveling in the box - evidence that he had friends who cared for him. He realized that he hadn't even figured out who had sent the smaller box, and sat up. It had gone though the regular military postal service, coming from California.

He sliced through the tape and opened the little box to see a small framed picture of he and Cassie during their trip around DC for her spring break. It was in front of the statue of Einstein Memorial. He remembered them all taking each others' pictures in front of it. Both girls had been thrilled to see the statue and had one-upped each other with obscure Einstein trivia, much to Jon's amusement.

He smiled at the picture. Cassie had a huge smile on her face as they stood with an arm around each other in front of the memorial.

A yo-yo, a very nice one, was under the picture and several sheets of paper folded at the bottom.

He began setting the string's tension as he read the letter, smiling at the excitement in the letter. She had known something funky was going on with the recent disease that had broken out and hadn't bothered following the path of the other researchers at Stanford. The disease had mysteriously disappeared, but before it had, she had made several significant discoveries about it and had submitted her work to Sam.

Sam had allowed her to 'publish' her findings and she was the primary author of a paper accepted in the New England Journal of Medicine! The horde of exclamation marks and underlines there had Jon laughing out loud.

The letter rolled happily along for several pages, mostly about her excitement to be accepted into a graduate research program at Stanford based on her Prior disease research.

He was so damn proud of her! Not even finished with her undergraduate degree and already blowing away the old fuddy-duddies!

'_That. That is what we're fighting for - bright young people like that who are gonna go on to live amazing lives._'

The cloud of worry and depression that had hung over him had vanished.

Maybe there was some hope this Christmas Eve.

* * *

**November 27th, Colorado Springs, Colorado (one month earlier)**

Jack leaned back on his couch, happier than he could ever remember. The lights were off, an early snow was falling outside, and the fire was radiating warmth with soft crackles onto the two people entwined together on the couch. The fire's shifting light made Sam's blond hair shimmer and he couldn't help but press a soft kiss into the sparkling curls.

"Mmmm," was Sam's only response.

Jack's stomach tingled at the sound. It was the day after Thanksgiving, now, and this was only the second time they'd had any time together since that August day he had showed up at the SGC almost unannounced. He had planned to take her out to dinner to officially start a relationship, but she had beaten him to the punch. She had scheduled a meeting with him in his office, closed the door, and walked up to him, face to face.

He smirked a little at the memory of his own puzzlement at her actions, and the feeling that had welled up inside - having her so close and knowing in a few hours he would be breaking _that_ topic.

And then …. Jack fully smiled at the memory of the shock that had rolled through him as Sam had stood there and said, "I'm tired of waiting," and then kissed him.

"Mmmm? Wha's you thinkin'?"

Sam's mumbled question made Jack grin.

"Remembering the office."

"MmmmmmMmmmm."

Jack smiled again - there were a lot of things Sam could communicate with those hums.

"You certainly surprised me in the best way."

Sam laughed softly and pulled back a little to look into his eyes. Damn, but those big blue eyes were beautiful!

"Direct action. Jon sa-"

Sam cut off, suddenly looking away.

The warm fuzzies in Jack's stomach suddenly turned into a coiling snake.

"Jon?" The word was soft and careful. "What did he say?"

'_If that little photocopy ..._'

"Oh, um," Sam straightened a little and Jack let his arm loosen.

"Well, Cassie and I ran into him before he left for the Alpha site."

After a moment's pause made it evident she wasn't going to continue, Jack push back a little, shifting to face her directly. He wasn't sure he wanted to hear, but now that it was out he had to know.

"What did he say?"

Had he declared his love for her? Asked her to be with him?

'_I'm too old for her. She should be with him. I don't have anything to offer a beautiful, young woman like Carter. As soon as Jon's back on Earth she'll see - _'

"He said that if I wanted you, I'd need to be direct. That," her voice got softer, embarrassed. "That you wanted to, but just didn't know how to break out of the rut we'd spent so many years building."

Jack blinked. '_What?_'

"But he told me tha-"

He snapped his mouth shut, but Carter's eyes were no longer looking down, but instead latched onto his own, filled with inquiry.

"Did he say something to you too?"

"Not really."

Her raised eyebrow showed a distinct Jaffa influence.

"We talked briefly."

"Ja-a-a-ack?"

It suddenly dawned on Jack exactly what had happened. He could see it happen as clearly as if he had done it himself. Which, he guessed, he sort of had. The maneuver. The setup. The bait. The snapping of the trap as Jon had maneuvered them.

"Jack, if you don't tell me, I'm going to ask Jon, and I'm going to do it in front of Daniel."

He cringed. If Daniel ever heard of this, Jack would _never_ live it down.

"Well, he called and said you were floundering about the Ori. That you were…"

'_Oh God. Kill me now._'

Jack said the words as quickly as he could.

'You were distracted thinking about me all the time and if I didn't act, he was going to."

Sam suddenly pealed out laughter and fell back, holding her sides.

Frustration and hurt filled Jack and he stood up. Fine! He had been manipulated, but she didn't have to make fun of him! He should have known she wasn't pining away after him.

That damn little kid! Jon had pushed his buttons just the right way to make his anger cloud his judgement. He should have known better! He'd kill that kid!

"Jack! Jack!"

He was stomping into the kitchen, flipping on the light as Sam chased after him.

"I'm sorry Jack, I wasn't laughing at you, or, well, I mean."

"I should have known. You weren't floundering or anything. That little bastard just - "

Sam punched him the shoulder. Hard. He stumbled to the side, catching himself on the counter.

"Ow! What was that for?"

"Jon was right. About two things. First, that to deal with you I need to be direct."

"Punching me is direct?"

"Yes."

Jack rubbed his shoulder. Ow.

"And the second thing?"

"That I was thinking about you constantly."

Jack dropped his hand from his shoulder as her words hit him.

"You really were on my mind all the time."

Jack swallowed and reached out for her hands, leaning forward to rest his forehead against hers. He suddenly felt like the biggest ass in the world.

"I was thinking about you all the time, too. I was pretty miserable."

Sam leaned her head up and pecked him on the lips.

"I'm pretty happy now."

Jack returned the kiss.

"Me too."

They met in the middle for the next kiss and it deepened, pulling them into each other.

"I'm still gonna beat the little snot into a pulp next time I see him," Jack muttered when they came up for air. The grin on his face belied the words, though, and Sam smiled at him.

'_Maybe not. It got me this, I guess,_' Jack thought.

Sam seemed to voice his own thoughts, "Maybe a Christmas present would be more appropriate. I'm feeling pretty thankful about what he did."

Jack shivered as she traced a finger down his chest.

"Hmmmm," Jack agreed, but was having trouble keeping his thoughts on anything but the beautiful woman who was sending such wonderful feelings through his body.

That first day being _together_ had been spent first at dinner and then all night on her couch, asleep together after having talked late into the night. Their next opportunity had been more emergency than anything - the Prometheus's destruction had triggered a dozen emergency meetings for SG1 and others in DC. She had stayed at his house, but they'd been exhausted.

Now, though, they had a whole weekend together with nothing work-related to do.

Jack's fingers ran up and down the side of her body, brushing her breasts with his thumbs as her fingers traced lower and lower down his stomach.

"I'm sorry for laughing," Sam said softly, between kisses.

Jack just smiled and shook his head.

"No, I really am," she insisted. "I feel horrible. In fact I really, _really_ want to make it up to you."

Jack swallowed.

Sam grinned.

* * *

Three hours later Jack lay exhausted on his bed with the most beautiful woman in the world curled up against him. He had pulled a comforter over their naked bodies, but they weren't asleep. He could feel her lips and tongue idly licking his chest. His own fingers were tracing Stargate symbols on her hip, though he didn't realize it.

He didn't care how they had gotten here, he was just eternally thankful that they were.

'_Cake. I'll send the brat a cake._'

"Mmmm?"

He smiled.

"I'll let t' kid live. For this I'll let him live. Might even send a cake."

"Mmmmmmm."

* * *

**A/N: I know there are some people who are rooting for Jon/Sam, and I was tempted - I really was. But I'm trying to keep this pretty close to the show. For those who worry about Jon being all alone for the rest of his life - I wouldn't be that mean to him. I might torture and kill him off seconds after finding love, but I wouldn't be so mean as to never let him find love at all.**

**Yeah, I'm big-hearted like that.**


	22. Greetings Lucian Alliance

**I'm so glad you guys liked the last chapter. It was a hard one to get out, but I'm glad you guys liked it.**

**For this one, I have to apologize for letting it cut off in the middle of things, but I just don't have time to edit the whole chunk. I'm going to be busy for a while, so I'm getting this out now instead of the whole chunk in several days.**

**Don't worry - I didn't leave it at a horrible, horrible cliff-hanger. (only because the cliff-hanger parts weren't at convenient locations :-D )**

* * *

**April 28, 2010, Alpha Site**

"Yes!"

Jon whooped and danced as the message appeared in his base email system.

"Tex! We're heading off world!"

"How'd that happen? What changed?"

"I'm not sure what changed, but the approval to use non-SGC security forces to accompany research teams just got announced."

He actually did know what had changed, though he wasn't supposed to know. SG1 had managed to stop the 'Supergate' the Ori were using, and in the process had destroyed both an Ori ship and a Wraith ship. Damn, but his people were good!

He hadn't managed to get his hands on the full reports, but reading between the lines, he was pretty sure it had been Sam who had figured something out while aboard the Odyssey.

The result was that Homeworld Command was feeling more confident about non-military personnel out in the universe, and was also building up larger offensive forces, further pulling away military personnel from the off-planet bases.

"Welp, I guess we'd better start putting together a few teams to support this."

Jon sat down on his desk in the office they shared and coughed.

Tex looked at him with a suspicious glance.

"Actually, I have a dozen people I've put through some training I developed for gate missions. We can probably make two teams out of them."

Tex sat back and considered Jon.

"It was just just-in-case preparation for emergencies or hopefully a day like this. Nothing official, though I can give you the plans and we can go over them. It's mostly gate-oriented."

Tex still didn't say anything, and Jon settled back to wait. The laconic man wasn't slow thinking, but he was extremely thorough in his planning, preferring to spend long hours considering plans. Once the plans were set, he moved like lightning.

"Jon, this isn't a dangerous question, but are you aiming for my job?"

Jon sat up, almost alarmed. This was one of the things he was starting to learn on the civilian side of things. In the military, you fundamentally could not take a superior officer's job. In the corporate world it was a concern that a lot of people seemed to have, though Jon had mostly witnessed it outside of the Blackbriar world.

"No sir. Hadn't even crossed my mind. I was just … You can have my plans. I wasn't trying to cut you out. It was all off-the-books time, mostly to avoid boredom for myself and others. I would never -"

"Hold it, pup. I'm not accusing you of anything. It was an honest question - do you want to lead Blackbriar's operation here?"

The 'pup' comment annoyed him a little, but he was slowly getting used to it. On his official paperwork with the company he was twenty four, even though biologically he was only nineteen. He looked a little older than nineteen, but not much - his attitude handled the rest of the age-fudging.

Jon shook his head. "Nope. I wouldn't take if they offered. I prefer being deployed in active positions."

Tex gave a wry smile. "That's what I thought. But," he held up a hand, "If you keep anticipating everything like this, you might not have the option to refuse. Don't stop, please, but if you ever want this position, just let me know."

"Sir, I wouldn't even try…"

"That's not what I meant. There's some scuttlebutt that suggests there might be some more bases opening up. The private researchers are pushing hard for it, and the brass on the military side has sounded a lot more open to it in the last month. I don't mind taking another base, or helping you to head up a base somewhere if that's what you want."

Jon breathed a sigh of relief. He had been a Colonel, a remarkably active one thanks to his careful maneuvering to avoid desk jobs, but a Colonel absolutely _had_ to do a lot of organizational planning and forward thinking about large-scale issues. It was apparently showing through a bit more than he realized. He wouldn't stop, but he might start channeling it out through other fronts.

Jon shrugged it off. "Maybe in a few years, but right now I plan on staying out on the pointy end. Teams going through gates - that's pointy."

Tex nodded in satisfaction. "All right. Send me your training for gate travel security and I'll take a look. Let me know who the people are who joined you in this. We'll probably go with them, but they might be too valuable to send them all out."

"You got it."

* * *

**Three Weeks Later, P6X-206**

Jon was feeling uneasy about this. This 'Lucian Alliance' group was a group of smugglers, and not the type of smugglers he liked. The fact of their profession had been in their briefing, but he would have been able to tell anyway.

He didn't mind working with smugglers - some of them could be decent people working around the rules in bad situations. He was pretty sure these people weren't like that. Way too much weaponry, and the men wielding the weapons had a feel that Jon recognized all too easily - casual willingness to kill for any reason. People just making a living at smuggling didn't have that same feel. People using smuggling to amass power did. Those people you could only trust as far as you could see them through your sights.

They were ostensibly allies, though, or at least an 'enemy of my enemy'.

'_An enemy of my enemy is certainly not my friend, though. They're my enemy's enemy, and that's it. These enemies of enemies are giving me bad vibes._'

This was an exchange of information - Jon's researcher was getting the location of a long-downed Ha'tak and in return were giving some information on a minor goa'uld that had been mentioned by the natives on a recently-explored world.

The planet they were on at the moment had been a 'lost' world to the Goa'uld, but discovered by the Lucian Alliance's ships centuries earlier, and turned into a 'safe' smuggling world. The SGC had found it more recently among the additional addresses from an Ancient list of worlds.

Jon didn't like being on the Lucian Alliance's home turf, but his objection had been overridden by the research contractors. They apparently viewed the Lucian Alliance as freedom fighters. Jon remembered far too many 'freedom fighters' to equate the term with 'good guys'.

The rough buildings around the rough-cleared landing zone had thousands of people moving around, and Jon was willing to bet that all of them were smugglers just like the ones they were talking with now. If anything went south they wouldn't have any friends and would have a whole lot of enemies breathing down their necks.

The leader of the negotiations on the Alliance's side, Ya'nay, was a hardened woman with tattoos covering most of her body, and she didn't mind showing a lot of it. Jon figured it probably worked for her in negotiations, but the way she moved screamed 'danger' to him, and the scores of knives he could spot tucked around her person were plenty to keep Jon's libido well in check. The head of the research team - Paul? Pete? Pierce? - probably hadn't gotten his eyes above her neck for five minutes.

'_If she weren't purposefully using her assets to distract him, I'd worry about him offending her._'

"And how are we to check the data on this? We can decode it on our ships but you'll be gone by then, and here in the field it's rather difficult to verify this on our own. I think you look trustworthy, but it's bad form to not even check things like this."

She held up the DVD she had been given, waving it right over her barely-covered breasts. It certainly kept the contractor's attention centered on something other than the negotiations.

Jon rolled his eyes and turned away, scanning the room. Nothing more than a gambling and 'entertainment' room at the back of the bar, there wasn't much to examine. There was only the one door and no windows, though the construction of the place suggested exits could be created in an emergency.

Trisha and Drew filled out the security team for this trip. It had been deemed a low-risk job, and it was just the three of them on security and the researcher to do the dealing. Whoever had planned this just didn't 'get' Stargate threats. Trisha was good. Drew, a tall, thin man with the blackest skin Jon had ever seen, was even better in a firefight. He trusted them both with his life, but trust wasn't firepower.

The procedures Jon and Tex had drawn up had six people on a security team. The fact that they had only authorized a half-team had made Jon nervous enough that he had made sure to be on the team himself - he wasn't about to send other people out on something if he didn't think it was safe. At least not if he could help it.

"Yes, but how do we know the data is on the disk itself and not on your computer. You are a very clever person, I can tell - I can't trust myself around you."

'_Sheesh. She can't possible be attracted to the overweight slob. Stop teasing the guy and let's go!_'

He went back to scanning the room, yet again. Trisha and Drew had their eyes on the goons. Drew was professional to his toenails, and Trisha wasn't about to be distracted by the flaunting.

A shadow crossed in front of the light showing under the door and paused. Jon frowned. Eavesdropper?

He let out a heavy sigh, and Trisha looked over. He caught her eye and pointed at the door and then down. Her brows wrinkled slightly as she tried to spot what Jon was indicating. The shadow shifted a little and her eyes showed her comprehension.

Jon looked at the other guards and froze.

They had suddenly become much more tense. They wore small things in their ears that Jon had assumed were similar to earbuds.

Trisha leaned over to Drew, suddenly smiling, looking like she was laughing at the byplay at the table, and whispered something in his ear.

'_Good cover,_' Jon thought with a bit of pride. Maybe not good enough to deflect all suspicion, but as good as he could think of in a hurry.

Jon saw one of the goons looking at him and pointed his head at the table where the researcher was fawning and flirting, and then rolled his eyes.

It should have gotten at least a twitch of something, but the man just looked at Jon, tense as a coiled spring.

That was enough. Jon wasn't waiting to find out what was going to happen.

He tapped his gun with his finger three times quickly, three times slowly, and three more times quickly. In this sort of situation, it served as an alarm.

Drew and Trisha backed up a couple steps and separated a little, hands slipping to grasp their weapons.

Jon kept an eye on the door and saw another shadow appear under the door. He stepped back again, now only a few feet from the wall and door.

The two goons noticed Jon's team's actions and tension, and it only ratcheted up their own. They grasped their own weapons more tightly. They weren't energy weapons, looking more like a cheap Chinese knockoff of an assault rifle, in Jon's mind. He might be a bit biased. He had to assume they were just as effective as Earth's own assault rifles, though.

"Paul."

The man didn't stop talking, though the woman glanced up at Jon. If she knew of anything about to happen, she wasn't giving the faintest clue.

"Pierce!"

The man looked up, though Jon couldn't tell if he had gotten the name right or not.

"What?"

"We're going to be late for our return. They're going to send another team in here if we aren't walking back through the gate in a couple minutes."

Wildly untrue, but hopefully the boob-besotted man wouldn't know that.

"But we - "

Jon ignored the man's protestations. The woman's face had hardened. She had been putting on a covering of flirting, but the interest instantly fled after Jon spoke.

He overrode the researcher.

"We're leaving. Let's go."

Trisha pulled back on the man's chair, not enough to spill him on the floor, but enough to cause him to jump to his feet.

The door suddenly slammed open and zat beams shot out, the first one catching the researcher, and the other narrowly missing Drew. Drew dropped to the floor and Trisha pulled their scientist back as thunder opened up inside the room.

The two goons opened fire on where Drew had been standing. The tattooed woman seemed to throw something at Trisha.

Jon pulled his own weapon up and sprayed it on full auto before he had even pulled it entirely around to target, shooting through the thin walls and covering the entire area where he was guessing the people outside were standing. Another reason Jon didn't want to move to zats.

Out of pure training not to stay in one place for any longer than necessary he dropped and rolled to the side.

Two daggers suddenly thudded into the wall where he had been standing.

He saw Trisha lunging up from the floor and across the table. She had that threat. Now that he could see through the door, he saw a man lying across the doorway and one aiming his own zat into the room. Jon's roll into his line of sight had surprised him, and Jon's bullets reached him just as he triggered his zat. The beam jumped just enough that it hit Jon's gun, instantly numbing his arms and shoulder.

Jon rolled to get to his knees, his arms useless, but thankfully still conscious.

Drew was standing up from where he had dived to the floor and moving toward Trisha and Ya'nay, but before he could reach them, Trisha spun and threw the woman over her hip, followed her down, and viciously yanked on the woman's arm in a single, flowing technique. Jon could hear the wet snap as something broke.

His ears were ringing from the gunfire, and the woman's scream was faint. He could see the two goons over against the wall, slumped back. A quick burst of pride in his team rolled through him - damn they were good!

Trisha lunged upright and gave a snap kick to the woman's jaw. The woman had grabbed her arm that was now bent severely backwards at the elbow and had a bone grossly distending the skin. It was a mercy to the woman that she lost consciousness at Trisha's kick.

"Drew. Cover me as I check things outside. Trisha, check the smugglers for anything."

The researcher would be fine as long as they were able to make it out themselves.

Jon clenched his hands for a moment, getting back a little movement. It would have to be enough.

Jon pulled a silvered steel mirror out of his backpack, holding it between clumsy fingers, and checked around the corners of the doorway. It looked like there had been three outside, and Jon crouched as he poked his head out. He could hear alarmed cries from down the short hallway and he wondered if anyone had been hurt by the bullets that would have easily passed through the walls of this place.

He didn't want to go back through the bar, though. Too many people and too many potential threats. Good thing the walls were thin.

"Clear out there, but keep watch down the hall. I'm making an exit hole in the wall. Toss in the zats. We might as well take 'em."

Trisha was rifling the goons, ignoring the blood, and going through their pockets.

Jon examined the walls. Fortunately they were at the end of the short hall, and two of their walls were outside walls. Unfortunately, neither of those walls had any bullet holes. Easy enough to fix.

He used his pistol clumsily with both hands to put two holes in the wall, one at chest level and another at knee height. He pulled out a piece of C4 and put tiny chunks no bigger than his thumb into the holes. Caps and wires were carefully inserted.

"Back off!"

Drew's voice was clear, but not alarmed, and Jon only looked up briefly. The tall man was casually holding his gun in place, ready to shoot, but not with a stance of imminent danger. Whoever it was must have retreated because he lowered his gun after a few seconds. Jon went back to wiring the explosives, his fingers slowly becoming more sure as the shock wore off.

"All right campers, we're blowing this. Back away."

Trisha pulled the unconscious scientist away and then dragged the unconscious woman away too. Jon upended the table as a light cover and took a quick look around. Trisha and Drew both nodded to him and covered their ears.

"Fire in the ho-"

The explosion rocked the room and sent a cloud of splinters and dust spraying about, but the table was enough to stop the worst of it.

Jon looked up and was happy to see the hole, nearly three feet across and five feet high. There was a single board still partially covering the middle, but Jon kicked it out easily. He stepped through himself, scanned the area and then dragged the overweight scientist through the hole. Trisha and Drew quickly followed.

"All right. Stargate is on the west side of the ship landing zones, we're to the south." He loved the fact that planets all had magnetic fields. They rarely matched Earth's, but it didn't matter for their purposes - it just established an easily-used benchmark. "We're heading west as much as we can, past the distance of the Stargate, then heading north, and we'll approach the Stargate from the west. If we head straight up and across the landing field, we'll have too much time in the open field of the landing area.

"Drew, you're point. Trisha, you've got our backs. I've got our passenger. I'm not going to be good at shooting for a while. All set?"

"Yes sir." "Yup."

Jon and Drew hoisted the man over Jon's shoulders in a fireman's carry.

"All right. Let's move out."

The man wasn't truly fat - just not in shape and a bit on the soft side. Fortunately he wasn't very tall either.

Drew paused at the first crossroads for a second, checking the area and then waved them forward before heading across at a brisk trot.

"Move to the right," Trisha's command came sharply and Jon moved as quickly as he could. "Quick cover," she called.

Drew ran ahead to check a tiny alley between two buildings. As they squeezed in, Jon set his load down and grabbed his weapon. "What is it?"

Trisha was peering back around the corner.

"A dozen armed people were running toward the bar. I don't _think_ they saw us."

Jon nodded. He should have thought to break their line of sight from the bar. That's what a team was for.

"Ok, thirty seconds to make sure they aren't directly pursuing us and then we're moving again."

Drew helped get their unconscious charge back up on Jon's shoulders as Trisha watched their recent path.

"Go."

They worked their way through the twisting streets and Jon marveled at the lack of planning of the settlement. None of the roads ran straight for very long, and most of them came to sudden turns to dodge around a house, storefront, or warehouse.

'_Smugglers don't make good town planners, I guess. On the plus side, no one is batting an eye at our little group either._'

It was a rather odd feeling - three soldiers, two of whom had weapons drawn - were trotting along the streets, but few of the residents of the settlement seemed to react other than to step out of their way. Jon was under no illusion that their apparent disinterest meant safety, though. The people would be willing to point out their path for anyone who asked, and if there were money involved, he suspected at least a few of the people they passed would join in the hunt.

It took them twenty minutes to work their way around until they arrived at the Stargate's area. Jon had worried about the time it was taking them, but he knew burning the extra time was better than being followed and shot if they took a direct route to the Stargate.


	23. Greetings Someone Else

**All right. Finally had a bit of time to do a quick double-check and post. Again, my apologies for chopping that where I did.**

**So, anyone wanna guess at who the new players in this chapter are?**

* * *

Standing at the western side of the large rocky landing area, the Stargate made a majestic contrast to the roughly built buildings around it. The ships standing on the bare area were mostly tel'taks of various types; only one seemed to be in good condition while the others showed considerable levels of wear.

As they watched, a ship descended from the clouds, and Jon was temporarily distracted from examining the people around the Stargate. It wasn't a tel'tak, and it didn't look to be influenced by Goa'uld designs at all if his memory served him. Certainly not Asgard either.

Its rounded, cigar-like shape gave few clues to its nature. It was obviously designed to land, with a flattened bottom, but it didn't seem to have any weapons visible. The only thing Jon could imagine to be weapons were a few domes scattered across the hull, ranging from maybe a foot across to a few that were nearly ten feet across.

A new player on the galactic stage? Lost civilization's tech?

"Trisha, grab some pictures of that ship. I don't recognize it or its style."

Jon pulled his attention back to the Stargate and more immediate concerns. There were over a dozen people milling before it, but Jon was pretty sure that at least some of them were a merchant group leaving. Two had large staff weapons, but they seemed to be security for the merchants. Four large crates were in their midst, complete with poles to carry them.

Jon dismissed them. It was the others that had Jon worried. A group of three were lounging fifty feet away, trying to look casual, but their frequent scans of the area, especially in the direction of the bar, suggested their nonchalance was faked. Two other people, also armed, were slowly pacing in a large circle, attention outward from the Stargate.

He didn't know for sure that any of them were looking for Jon and his group, but he wasn't about to risk it.

He tapped Trisha on the shoulder and they pulled back around the corner of the warehouse-like building they were using for cover.

"Not good. Three to five guards visible, unknown more watching from further out. We walk out there and we're sitting ducks. If we didn't have this schmuck," he nodded to the researcher he had lay down next to the wall, "I think we'd be able to blast our way through, but carrying this guy around?"

Jon shook his head.

"We'll watch for an opening and see if we can't spot any more of their scouts. Worst comes to worst, we'll wait for Alpha to dial in to check on us. Figure things out then."

"Where do we set up," Drew asked.

Jon glared at the unconscious man and looked at his watch. "We've got another ten minutes before we'll be able to wake him up. We'll leave the Stargate area until he wakes up. If they're looking for us, they'll be looking near to the Stargate first."

"I'll keep watch around here," Drew offered.

Jon nodded. The man was a Scout Sniper in the Marines and could all but be invisible when he had a little time to prepare.

"Excellent. We'll find somewhere north of here, less than a quarter klick. We'll let you know where."

With that, Jon hefted the unconscious man back onto his shoulders and started following Trisha as she headed north, staying close to the warehouse wall for cover as far as it went.

This area was mostly storage buildings and much less populated than the rest of the settlement. They saw a couple groups moving around, but none of them seemed to be searching and Jon was pretty sure they had managed to stay out of sight. A few blocks north, they found an area that looked to be abandoned after a fire had taken out a dozen buildings. Trisha checked one of the partially-burned buildings and they took cover inside.

It was heavily scorched with fire, but the stone-like walls had remained standing. It would work well.

Jon let the man down with a thump and the man groaned a little. Jon felt like groaning himself.

'_I'll insist no one we accompany can weigh more than a hundred fifty pounds._'

Jon keyed his radio.

"Three blocks from where we left you. We have decent cover. You?"

"On a roof. That new ship - our tatted up girl showed up there. Went inside. Hasn't come out yet. Trade group went through the gate. Three armed guards are still there. The two rovers left."

Jon frowned at the sniper's report.

"Thanks. Check back in twenty."

"Roger."

Jon turned to Trisha to see her lightly slapping the man's cheek. The unconsciousness should be wearing off soon, though the man would have a hell of a headache, he remembered.

Jon checked his watch again. They still had an hour before their expected return through the Stargate, and thirty minutes later Alpha site would call through to establish communication to see what was holding them up. He prefered to be able to step through on time, though.

Disguises might let them through. The merchants had apparently gone through without being bothered.

He glanced around the charred interior. The ceiling beams had mostly fallen in, and the possible remnants of any stores looked to be piles of carbon.

"Trisha, we could always try a smash and run, but I don't like that. You heard about our tatted girl?"

Trisha nodded. "Yeah, the bitch stuck me. Hope she's in trouble."

Jon's eyes widened. He hadn't noticed her so much as favor anything since they left.

"Where? How bad?"

"My back. It slid in under my vest. It burns like hell, but it didn't get dug in deep. Just skin."

"Let me check it."

She nodded and unstrapped the left side of her vest. Jon could see the grey cloth of their BDUs underneath was stained with blood, but it was dried.

"Hasn't been bleeding for a while. I think you're in good shape until we get back."

She nodded and began to strap her vest back on, but Jon stopped her.

"Hold on. Take it the rest of the way off. I want to dress it a bit. I'll slap an antiseptic swab over it. If we can't get through and have to wait for rescue, we could be here for a while."

"Yeah, yeah. You just wanna get your hands on me again," she grinned as she pulled the vest off.

Jon smirked. They hadn't renewed the physical aspect of their relationship again - that seemed to be a product of their time together in Afghanistan - but they flirted heavily.

"I can't right now. You wouldn't be able to walk afterward."

"Ooo, someone's getting a big head."

"Well, I got a big something."

"Yeah, now if you only knew how to use it worth a damn we'd be getting somewhere."

Jon snorted and gave the round to her. He liked her a lot. She was strong and loyal under her irreverent and raunchy exterior. He ready for a serious relationship, though.

He finished putting the pad over the wound - a four inch long slice that had cut down to her ribs but hadn't pierced between them, leaving a nasty and painful wound. Damn, she was good. He hadn't even seen her twitch since then. He finished patching it over and helped her put her vest back on. Though she didn't show it, he knew it must hurt, and he helped her strap back in.

"All right. So I think we could smash in, but I'd rather not, especially with our cargo scientist. A few people hiding, watching the gate could really mess us up. I'd like to try a stealthier approach if we can. I'm thinking a trading group might be able to make it through, especially if it doesn't look like a group of four people."

She nodded. "Got an idea for the disguises?"

"Nothing fast, unfortunately. I'm going to check a few of these burned buildings to see if anything can be found."

"Gotcha. I'll get this guy up and ready."

Jon made his way out of the building and carefully made his way to the next closest building. It seemed to be even more thoroughly burned.

His radio squawked softly.

"_She hasn't left the ship yet, but a group of four met with our group of three and then left again. I saw them split up, and one of them reappeared on a rooftop with a good view of the gate. Armed. They only have their assault rifles, but at this range that should be good enough_."

Jon swore softly and then keyed his radio.

"See if you can find the others. We might need to take them out. I'm working on a disguised trip through the Stargate, but if we can't we'll need to escalate."

"_Roger._"

"Trisha. How's our guy?"

"_Awake. Headache._"

"All right. Get him ready if we need to move quickly."

"_Roger._"

Jon decided to skip the more badly burned ones, and instead focused on the least damaged buildings. Fifteen minutes later he found something he thought he could use - two crates of cloth that had survived with only minor burns.

That would work for a pinch. He still hated the idea of having guns aimed at his back, but it would have to do. He tried hefting one of the crates but it was far too heavy to carry himself. He pulled stacks of cloth out until he could heft the crate. Nearly four feet per side, it was more awkward than heavy, but Jon hefted it up and slowly made his way back to where he had left Trisha and their scientist.

Said scientist was sitting on the ground holding his head.

"Hey Paul, how's it hanging?"

"Pat."

"Good, glad to hear it," Jon made sure his voice was extra cheerful. "I've got some stuff for crude disguises if we need 'em. I expect Alpha to make a call for us, though, in -" he glanced at his watch. They were due to be walking back through the Stargate in thirty minutes and Alpha would dial in thirty minutes later to try to check on them if they were late. "- about an hour. I want to be back through before that, though."

He nudged the scientist. "Keep drinking. Take some more pills."

Jon started pulling out the cloth. He rolled up his sleeves and began working on a quick wrap. He had worn … _he remembered_ the clothes worn while spending nearly a year in Afghanistan on black ops. This would work. His knife quickly slashed apart the long cloth and sliced holes where needed.

"I need your iodine."

Trisha pulled her med pack out and tossed it to him. A quick swabbing of iodine added a strong tint to his tanned features, and a more thorough swabbing covered his arms. A bit more knife work got him a long, thin strip which he quickly wrapped up around his head, making a rough turban.

"What do you think?"

Trisha looked at him with a skeptical eye. "Well, you definitely don't look military any more, and if they're just working off verbal descriptions, you can probably pass. I don't know about all four of us, though. Drew and I are going to be harder to change our skin color."

Jon nodded. "Which is why you and Drew are going to be getting really cozy in this crate while Pete and I are the traders. Two traders will hopefully disarm any suspicion if they're looking for a group of four."

"Pat," came the voice of the scientist.

'_At least he's standing,_' Jon thought.

"Yup, they're going to be pretty packed in there," Jon replied.

Trisha looked him and then at the box. "Drew and I are going to be really snuggly, aren't we?"

"Yup, you lucky girl!"

"We aren't going to be any help if things turn south, though. We'll be a pretty fat target in there."

Jon nodded. He wasn't about to try to smooth it over. It was a risky move.

Trisha grimaced. She had heard Drew's description of the group of people who had set up on overwatch about the Stargate. Trying to blast through would be messy. Very messy.

Jon let her work through the scenario herself and she finally nodded.

"It's this, or we wait for some sort of extraction effort from Alpha."

Jon agreed with her. He didn't like that option much - once large groups of hostile people started getting involved, things tended to go cross-eyed. Things were bugging him, though he hadn't had time to sort it all out. He just knew he didn't want to allow things to escalate until he knew what that might bring.

"I don't like the Alpha extraction plan much. Too much could go wrong and lead to a major incident."

"Well I think we ought to just wait."

They didn't even bother to acknowledge the scientist's interjection.

Trisha and Jon looked at each other, unspoken thoughts rolling back and forth. Tactics. Reactions. Threats.

"_We've got action with Tats. She's coming out of the ship with … six armed people in some uniforms. Not Alliance. Heading toward the gate._"

Drew's voice spoke over their radios and Trisha and Jon both nodded and turned to the man standing next to them.

"All right. Time for you to get dressed." Jon started pulling more cloth out of the crate.

"We've got some basic disguises and an exit plan, Drew." Trish started catching him up on their plans. "Bob and Jon are disguising as traders. You and I are going to be in a crate as cargo. We'll need to meet with you."

"Pat! It's -"

Jon pulled the cloth he was working on down over the man's head, cutting off his protest.

"_Back at the place we split up. How long before you guys are there?_"

"We're getting dressed, so …" She looked over to Jon. 'Twenty,' he mouthed to her. "We'll be there in twenty minutes. You and I are going to get pretty intimate in that box. Hopefully your girlfriends and wife won't be jealous."

"They know I've got more than en -"

The radios broke off with a squeal.

Trisha frowned and triggered hers, "What's up?"

It gave short bursts of sound as she triggered it, but that was all. Jon held up his own. "Nothing came through on mine. I'll bet it's jamming. We're starting radio silence, now. If they're jamming, they might be able to track too. In fact …"

Tactics spun through his mind in a blur.

"We're leaving. Now."

"But, where …"

Jon pushed the scientist toward the crate.

"Trisha you've got point. Work our way back, but not in a straight line from the Stargate to here. If they did pinpoint us, the guards that came out with Tats girl might be heading here. Percy, you get the crate. We'll finish your disguise later."

Trisha moved across the street, heading up toward the northeast. Jon figured she would circle back down toward the gate. Maybe it wasn't needed, but it was better safe than sorry.

After she checked around, she waved for them.

Jon took the rear as the man ahead of him lugged the crate.

Only a block further, Drew stepped out of an alleyway to meet them.

"That group split up. Two of them came right toward me. The other four headed your direction. I ghosted. They had gotten our locations somehow."

"Triangulated on our radios is my guess."

Drew nodded. "That's what I guessed, too. I turned it off. I got a few pictures of them, though."

He tossed a camera to Jon.

Jon flipped through the screen quickly, and frowned.

"Damn it. Those weapons are the same type I ran into on Earth. Ok, if we fight these guys, their guns are like staff weapons. They don't pierce very well, though. Light cover is your friend. They might have some goa'uld-like shields, too."

Drew looked at him oddly. "You ran into these guys on _Earth_?"

Jon shook his head. "Just their weapons. Tell you later."

He kicked himself for never following up on the mission with Teal'c. The stories that had triggered that mission sounded like there had been some personal shields of some sort, but he didn't know for sure. Better to assume the worst in this case.

"Let's get our disguises finished, and we'll check it out."

Ten minutes later Jon adjusted the turban on the scientist's head. The yellow-ish stain of the iodine covered his hands, face and neck. To Jon's Earth-based standard, it looked bizarre to see a yellow-skinned person with caucasian facial features in Bedouin robes, but in the flowing nature of galaxy travelers spread across hundreds of worlds, the breadth of cultures and varieties of skin and shape meant that it wasn't too strange.

The grunts and soft swearing finally stopped after Trisha and Drew managed to get themselves squeezed into the crate and Jon took a last check. It wasn't too bad, but they wouldn't be able to extricate themselves quickly. Drew had spotted a set of poles which fit smoothly into grooves on the bottom of the crate, so they were good for transportation.

Jon squatted down and lifted up on his end of the poles with an soft grunt.

The scientist staggered slightly as he straightened. "There's no way I can carry this for far," he moaned.

Jon frowned. "Ok, set it back down."

He pushed the poles forward.

"Ok, you grab it up at the end of your poles. I should have more of the weight now."

It was bumping his nose now, but he could haul it, and the scientist now had it much lighter and longer poles. Leverage for the win.

"You good, now?"

"Sure, that's better."

"How about our two lovebirds?"

"Fuck you," came the response, muffled by the crate.

Jon grinned. "Alright, let's head out. Parker, I'll be grumping at you, but don't say much in response. Just ignore me. You know the plan - if I say 'give up the ghost' drop everything and run for cover. Find a hiding place nearby and wait for rescue."

"Yeah. Got it. And it's Pat."

"Glad to hear you have it down pat. I just wanted to make sure."

Jon grinned a little. It was the little things in life.

They worked their way down the street as Jon began a nonsensical list of gripes about the world and its inherent unfairness to traders trying to make a living. It would help put the other man's mind in the right attitude. They were about five minutes after their scheduled return time already, but hopefully in another couple minutes they'd be walking into the Alpha site.

As they arrived at the Stargate, Jon almost instantly noted the two soldiers standing a few feet away from the Stargate. They had heard Jon's voice before he was visible and were looking at them as they arrived. Two merchants and a crate.

"And I swear if you drop this again, I'm going to take the damages out of your share!"

The two soldiers gave them a careful but quick examination, and seemed to lose interest. Jon let out a sigh of relief as they walked toward the DHD.

"Ok, set it down. _Gently_ this time, you idiot."

Jon glared at the man after they set it down. He then turned around and boldly examined the other people standing around the Stargate. The three Lucian Alliance men he nodded his head to, almost familiarly, and passed on. A trader was long used to these people. They didn't seem to be too interested, but they were watching. He shouldn't be interested or concerned about them.

Jon gave most of his attention to the two soldiers from the strange ship. They were unusual and a trader might be suspicious of anything unusual. He also wanted the chance to examine them more carefully.

Something about them was ringing a bell, deep in his memory. They certainly had the same weapons as he had found in the rebel encampment back on Earth, but something more. Their dull grey uniforms had little marking except for some sort of gizmo strapped around their chests like a vest. Something about the cut of their uniforms was ringing a bell.

He realized they looked similar in style to the brief glimpse he had seen of the man tied up in the rebel's building. That certainly made sense, sort of, but he could tell it wasn't everything. Oh well, he'd think about it later.

He gave them a last suspicious glare and began fussing around the crate.

"Ok, remember I'll do the talking. Gonzo wants these for his celebration and we have him where we want him. I'll do the bargaining. You just stay quiet."

Jon got a nod in return, but the man looked too nervous.

"Hey!"

Jon got the nervous man's attention.

"And don't you even think of accepting anything to drink from him!" Jon did his best to scowl thunderously. If the guy was going to be so obviously nervous, Jon would make sure it at least seemed to be a reason for it. "If you puke your guts all over the place again I'll skin you alive and feed you to a kraken!"

Out of the corner of his eye, Jon could see one of the Alliance guards grin and elbow another guard.

'_Good. Cover fully accepted._'

"Now get ready to go."

At this point it wasn't the guards here that he was so worried about - it was the hidden people watching him. He could almost feel their sights aimed at his back But if they saw these guards relaxing, hopefully they would be relaxed too.

Jon marched over to the DHD and began pushing the symbols to dial the Alpha site. He stepped back as the Stargate exploded its blue foam and then settled back into the familiar blue wavering of the wormhole's event horizon. He triggered his identity signal, letting them know he was coming.

He walked back toward his position and reached down to grab the handles as some more people walked into the Stargate's clearing. He kept his focus on his role.

"On three. One. Two. Three."

They both straightened with a grunt and Jon finally looked over at the newcomers.

Four familiarly-dressed soldiers were walking toward them with the tattooed woman at their lead - her arm in a sling. She did not look happy.

Their eyes briefly locked across the distance and Jon glanced away, but not before he saw a question begin to form on her face.

"Let's go."

He tried to keep his voice steady. They still had to make it up the steps and into the Stargate.

Three steps later he heard her voice.

"Hey! Stop them!"

Jon began to push along, urging the struggling scientist up the stairs.

"Hey. You two. Hold it!"

"You shall halt."

The words came from the Alliance guards and unknown soldiers at the same time.

Jon gave a last gasp of maintaining his cover while urging the scientist on the other end to go up the stairs more quickly. "We're going to be late. We don't have time to stop. Hurry up, up there!"

"You shall halt!"

The soldiers were pulling out their guns, but the Alliance guards were more direct. Two shots were fired, hitting the stairs next to Jon's feet. The scientist had made it up the stairs, and the shots broke his nerve. He dropped his poles and dove forward into the Stargate with a shrill scream.

Jon swore as the weight of the crate and its contents thudded down.

'_Damn all scientists to hell!_'

He surged up with everything he could muster, pushing and sliding the poles and crate across the stones of the platform holding the Stargate.

The end of the poles were sliding through the event horizon. He was most of the way up the stairs himself as the weapons fire began fully open up. Several bullets ricocheted off the stairs and several more went shooting past into the Stargate's blue horizon, leaving tiny ripples.

Something hit his calf and his left leg crumpled.

"Raargh!"

Jon lunged forward with his hands and good leg. The crate was only inches from the wormhole surface.

Another round of bullets hit around him and hit the crate as well, sending splinters into Jon's face and pulling a scream of pain from inside the crate. He plowed into the crate on all fours, sliding it most of the way into the blue surface before a green light exploded on the corner of the crate over Jon's head.

Jon was knocked flat. It flashed through his mind that he was glad it seemed to be on its lowest setting. He reached out his hand and gave the crate a shove. Most of its mass now existing inside the Stargate, it was an easy shove and it slid the rest of the way in.

Jon could hear several sets of footsteps running toward him from behind, but his mind was still reeling from the blast so close to his head.

'_Got to get through the gate._'

He blinked his eyes and pulled himself up onto his knees. He felt as much as heard steps hit the stairs and knew he wasn't going to have enough time before someone grabbed him. Still, he tried.

He pushed forward and the shimmering blue beckoned him from only a yard away before he felt hands grab his leg and pull. He fell on his stomach, his M-70 digging into his stomach under his robes.

Jon rolled over and grabbed at his robes. The loose cloth made his fingers clumsy and it seemed to catch on everything, but as the Alliance guard began to pull him back from the shimmering blue salvation, his fingers pressed the safety through the cloth and then found the trigger.

Uncaring of where the shots were as long as he didn't shoot himself he let loose a spray of bullets. The gun jerked and bounced, but its clips held it onto his combat vest and kept it from jerking all the way out of his grip.

The man grabbing his leg and the two men coming up behind him all dove away at the angry roar of Jon's machine gun fire in their faces. Jon pushed with his good leg and got himself back onto the Stargate's platform, now lying on his back.

Jon swung it to the side at the two soldiers about to reach the stairs, and fired at them. They didn't even slow, though. Jon could see the bullets stop in midair and then drop.

'_Damn shields!_'

The two were coming up the stairs, and now on his back, Jon knew that once again he wouldn't have time to reach the gate before they were on him.

Instead he yanked back on one of the poles sticking out of the event horizon and thrust it at the nearer soldier. The pole caught his legs and brought him to his knees, forcing his partner to dodge around him. Jon could see the other soldiers and the tattooed woman running toward them, but they were still too far away to influence this fight.

Jon got his heel dug into the stone and thrust himself back. He could feel the surface of the wormhold lapping at the back of his head. He realized that his turban must have come off, though he couldn't remember it happening.

He pulled his leg in for another push as the soldier lunged toward him, throwing his weapon to the side to free his hands. He landed on Jon's chest with a grunt and the two struggled at the edge of the Stargate. The man was trying to jerk Jon back while Jon thrust with everything he had to push himself through.

Without both legs, though, Jon was being overpowered.

Giving up on the unequal contest of his one good leg versus the soldier, he pull his leg in and tucked it under the man's leg.

With a heave and kick, Jon flipped the man up and over his head, into the wormhole. He kept his grip tight and rolled backwards into the wormhole, using the man's falling momentum to yank himself in afterward.

Lights flashed as his senses suddenly tried to make sense of sensations they couldn't interpret and then he was rolling onto the floor of the Alpha site's cave. He vaguely saw a buzz of activity as medical personnel rushed around the crate, but he couldn't concentrate as the soldier on top of him jerked away from and onto his left leg, sending a shock of fresh pain through Jon, leaving him gasping for a second.

The alien soldier looked up in alarm as several SF guards gathered around him and Jon, yelling for him to get down on his stomach.

Jon looked up to see a faint look of resignation pass across the man's face before the man started jerking and twitching. Jon felt himself get pulled back by one of the guards as the unknown soldier collapsed. Behind him the Stargate winked out, and Jon relaxed as a woman in a medical uniform dropped beside him.

Two more ran over to the fallen soldier and began examining him. Jon just pointed at his calf in exhaustion as his system slowed down.

He could hear General Richards' voice in the background giving orders or question, Jon couldn't tell.

Whew.

That had been a trap from the beginning, and whoever this new player was, seemed to be hostile. Not only that, but they were already on Earth.

Damn.


	24. Jumping In Deeper

**I'm getting frustrated. I want to post updates three or four times a week again, but I'm done catching up with my already-written stuff, so it's taking longer between updates. Sigh. Oh well. I'm definitely still loving the story!**

**I'm pretty excited about this chapter. Part of it occurred to me way back when, and it just seemed right. I've been looking forward to getting to it for a long time now. :-)**

* * *

**May 21st, 2010, Alpha Site**

Jon's calf throbbed as he sat in the briefing but he barely noticed as his anger burned hotter and hotter.

His team was hurt. Not dead, thank God, but Drew was still unconscious, and most of Trisha's body was bandaged and stitched up.

Their vests had protected most of their vitals, but six bullets had found places their armor didn't cover. Trisha had taken the brunt of it in some ways since her back had been toward the shooters, but Drew had gotten the most serious wound - an inch-wide splinter deep into his throat. He was going to survive, but it had been a close thing.

Now that Jon knew his team was going to survive, he was free to pursue the matter. But it was now looking like there was a huge cover-your-ass effort going on. The more he looked at it, the deeper his anger worked - someone had sold him and his team out. He was certain of it.

The exchange of information with the Lucian Alliance wasn't necessarily suspicious, but the location was - that planet wasn't anything even close to 'neutral ground'. He hadn't known for sure ahead of time, but someone certainly must have!

His concern on the location had been overruled. That could have been bureaucratic nonsense from people who didn't understand the nature of conflict.

But, the team had been stripped down to half size, and that was what convinced him it had been a setup from their own side, not just the Lucian Alliance. It was just a half-step too far.

Half-sized teams were almost unheard of in their Stargate missions - maybe a diplomatic visit out to visit Teal'c at Dakara might only get a half team, but even then it was much easier to stick with the normal structure of things and send a full security team. Especially with the threat of a galaxy-spanning war!

No, someone had gone to a great deal of effort to send only a half team on this mission. Stupidity had a certain 'flavor' to it that Jon recognized, and this little piece of FUBAR had the feeling of prior planning all over it. And now …

General Richards had pulled together a full board of inquiry into the matter, and Jon was pretty sure that at least a few of the Leidos managers were going to lose their positions, but that was all. They were sticking to their story of what ultimately came down to incompetence. It was better than treason.

'_Fewer people through the Stargate means fewer people at risk. We believed and still believe this is the better way to proceed._'

'_The Lucian Alliance is our ally. We believed this to be a perfectly safe mission without any need for security. We were incorrect, but this was based on the information provided by military intelligence._'

Jon ground his teeth at the ass-covering excuses being spun out.

General Richards seemed to be pursuing the guilty parties earnestly, but seemed to be satisfied with the appearance of incompetence. Jon's long years - remembered long years - in dark special ops had removed any trust in superior officers. Hammond had been known to Jon for years by reputation, but even then it had taken a couple years to fully trust the man. General Richards? Maybe Jon would trust him in the future, but for now he kept his counsel to himself.

'_No,_' Jon thought. '_Too many bad decisions, and the trail of excuses building up to this mistake is too solid. People just don't have meetings with full notes taken about every step. Incompetence and stupidity don't document themselves this conveniently. They were setting this up with excuses from the beginning. Maybe these managers believe it. Maybe. But at least Simmons had to know what was going on - he's the one who instituted the suggestion. He'll lose his position on the contract, but he probably has his ass covered in other ways - he's way too calm about the possibility of losing this argument._'

Simmons was a manager with Leidos - the director for the civilian side of the base operations, which with the continued military draw-down from the Alpha site meant he ran almost everything except the actual missions.

The story being told was set, Jon could tell. He couldn't get anything more here.

He stood up from his seat along the wall and caught General Richard's eye. He winced and frowned as he pointed to his leg. Richards nodded in understanding and returned his focus to the speaker. Tex looked at him a bit longer, face not showing anything, but his continued attention on Jon showed he wasn't quite as convinced about Jon's injury excuse.

Jon made sure the limp was evident as he walked out. That would get him out of the rest of the inquiry. It had another day, probably, and it would tie up Simmons. Perfect.

Jon made his way back to his room and began grabbing a few items he would need. Thankfully, the Alpha site hadn't been decked out with nearly the full-scale camera coverage that the SGC had. Jon had his pockets filled when a knock came to his door.

His heart rate skyrocketed for a moment until he brought it back down.

"Coming!"

He pulled out a couple of the items that would be harder to explain to be just carrying around before he went to the door. He took a quick breath, schooling his features back to normal, and then opened the door.

"Yeah?"

"I hope you are having a good day, Jon."

"Teal'c! Hey buddy! How's it hangin'?"

Teal'c paused for a brief moment and then replied, "To the left and down."

Jon goggled. His mouth opened and closed silently.

Teal'c continued to observe him with an unchanging blank expression.

"Oh." Jon finally managed to get out. "Uh, good. Good."

His mind slowly began rebuilding itself.

"So. Yeah. What brings you here?"

"May I come in?"

"Oh! Yeah, sure! Come on in." Jon shook his head, clearing the sense of unreality Teal'c had given him with that direct, literal answer. He grabbed a chair as Teal'c carefully closed the door behind himself. Someone must have set him up for that one.

"I am afraid I come bearing dire news, Jon."

Jon's heart began to sink.

"The Ori? The team?"

The Jaffa nodded gravely. "Indeed.

"We are still searching for a way to stop the Ori. Potentially useful items of Ancient power have been determined and pursued. However, the Ori have also been in pursuit of those items.

"DanielJackson fell while saving the rest of the team from the Ori."

Jon sat down hard.

"Confirmed dead? Not ascended?"

Teal'c frowned. "The attack seemed most certain to be fatal, but it has not been possible to return to confirm."

Jon nodded.

"So there is hope."

"There is hope. However, if he survived, then the Ori have captured him. There are many dangers if the Ori are able to acquire DanielJackson's knowledge."

Jon then understood Teal'c actions. He would certainly alert Jon if any of the team had died, but an uncertain situation wouldn't normally have gotten Teal'c to come tell him so quickly. However, Daniel had been to the Alpha site not too long ago.

Jon nodded in understanding and sighed.

"Damn."

"Indeed."

They stood in silence for several minutes as Jon worked through the initial blast of fear, the possibility of loss, and the rest of the complicated situation.

This did tend to put his own problems into a different light. Less urgent in many ways. Still.

"I'll pass this along. We'll work on some possible defenses, but if some of the Ori show up here, I'm not sure we can seriously fight on our own. Perhaps the Odyssey can be called in, but it takes them a full day to make the trip from Earth. We'll need …"

Jon's voice faded off. This was complicated by the turncoat they had on base. If the person or persons were working for the Ori they needed to know who they were. If the person wasn't, then it might not make a difference in fighting the Ori, but they still needed to figure it out.

Jon shook his head. Simplify complexities.

"T, I'm dealing with some other things here - a possible betrayal by people here, and information that the Lucian Alliance isn't nearly as friendly toward us as might have been believed. "

The Jaffa gave a solemn nod. "This is concerning. However, it has been known for two weeks that the Lucian Alliance is untrustworthy. Some of their members attempted to steal the _Odyssey_."

Jon stared, stunned. "Two weeks? But we should have known almost immediately! We almost got captured by Alliance forces because people insisted they were trustworthy!"

"Betrayal."

Teal'c deep voice dropped further still, becoming as much growl as speech.

Jon grabbed his tools up and stepped to the door. "Simmons. He is the lead civilian here - other than General Richards who focuses on the actual missions and security, he is in charge of almost everything else. Communications go through his people. He's in a meeting and will be for hours. I want to check his room."

Without a word, Teal'c followed Jon out the door.

A minute later they were at Simmon's door. The doors all had badge passes instead of physical keys, but they also had sensors inside to unlock the door automatically when someone was inside and coming to the door.

Jon grabbed the yardstick he had brought and quickly taped on a large piece of cardboard. Sliding it under the door and waving it triggered the internal sensor, and unlocked the door. Secure rooms had tight doors that stopped things like this, but for personal rooms - Teal'c and Jon were inside within seconds.

"Wear these," Jon handed Teal'c a pair of latex gloves. "He's a note-taker. He takes notes about everything. He almost certainly has a special notebook keeping track of his actions. That sort of habit isn't something that changes."

Jon and Teal'c quickly began searching the suite - as an executive-level suite, it had a bedroom, living room, bathroom, and office. Jon began searching for hidden compartments while Teal'c began going through the office desk.

"I believe this to be our gun which smokes."

Jon straightened from the locked filing cabinet he had just opened. Teal'c had merely started on the office desk.

"It talks of the Lucian Alliance extensively."

"Really? He leaves it on the desk?" Jon felt slightly miffed. '_Not even an attempt at tradecraft? Bah._'

"It was attached to the underside of a drawer."

"Hmph. Let me see."

Teal'c handed it to him, but instead of reading it, Jon pulled out a camera and began snapping pictures of each page. It took a couple minutes, but he had a record of the entire thing.

"Got it. Anything else?"

Teal'c had gone through the rest of the suite while Jon was doing that. "He has been most active in shredding papers. I believe all other paper in the suite has been shredded. There is a large number of bags full of shredded paper in his bedroom closet."

"He probably started as soon as we got back through the Gate. I'm sure the notebook will follow if he loses his position."

"Indeed."

"All right. We'll need to leave this as if we weren't here, then we'll let General Richards know."

Teal'c took the book back and reattached it to the bottom of the drawer as Jon went back through the room, checking for and removing any signs of their visit.

As they stepped out of Simmons room, a familiar voice called out.

"Jon? Teal'c?"

Jon turned to see Trisha coming down the hallway. She had on loose BDUs with a long-sleeved t-shirt which hid most of her bandages.

'_Time to go on the offensive._'

"Trisha! What are you doing out of the infirmary? You aren't supposed to be moving, much less out walking! You're going right back there, right now."

Instead of being cowed, Trisha merely pursed her lips.

"So what are you two doing coming out of Director Simmons' room?"

Before Jon could reply Teal'c spoke up. "Trish'a, we have uncovered evidence of treachery. I believe that your legal system requires that no one knows how we discovered it if the traitor is to be punished."

Jon's jaw dropped for the second time that day.

Trisha's look hardened and Jon gave up any hope of her not being fully involved.

"Smooth move kemosabe," Jon muttered at Teal'c. The man merely looked at him.

Tiny tension in one eyebrow - '_There was no other way._'

Jon sighed - '_Yeah, but ..._'

Tiny crinkle of the eyes - '_You are merely disappointed she saw through your words._'

Jon scowled - '_I am not! It's just that ..._'

Tiny narrowing of the eyes - '_The deed is done, regardless._'

Jon blew out - '_Fine, fine._'

He looked back to Trisha who was now looking extremely smug.

"Done arguing, boys?"

"So, yeah. Simmons knew that the Lucian Alliance isn't an ally. He withheld the information. Sent us in at half strength. Might have even been coordinating with the Alliance."

Trisha's face re-hardened as Jon gave her the summary.

"Where is he?"

"Still getting grilled with the others by General Richards. They're spinning it as a mere mistake based on bad intelligence."

Trisha's eyes flashed. "Oh no! He's not getting out of this with just a slap on the wrist."

"Indeed. He should be executed for his treachery," came Teal'c growl.

Trisha's bared teeth was pure wolf in its danger.

'_I might as well be here with two Jaffa,_' crossed Jon's mind.

"Let's go make sure his ass winds up in the hot seat, then."

Jon marched into the conference room with Trisha and Teal'c behind him.

"... savings are considerable. It was a worthwhile cost-cutting - "

The manager speaking came to a stop as the three soldiers walked right up to the table across from General Richards.

"General Richards," Jon interrupted. "There is some new information that has come to light which gives a very different view as to what has been going on here. Teal'c just arrived from Earth with some information that he assumed we knew because it had been sent to us weeks ago."

Simmons, perhaps realizing what the news was, tried to interject. "This isn't the time for that. This is a serious matter we are discussing - "

"You will be quiet, traitor."

Teal'c growl filled the room, instantly shutting Simmons' mouth. His face went white.

"Teal'c told me that two weeks ago Earth sent us a message that the Lucian Alliance had tried to steal Earth's warship, the _Odyssey_. Director Simmons or his people held back that message. Knowing this, he has stated over and over again that the Lucian Alliance was a trustworthy ally and that we didn't need a full team. He withheld the information about the Alliance and then he purposefully sent us to meet them with only half a team for protection. That's treachery, sir. Pure and simple."

General Richards' head whipped around to spear Simmons with a glare.

"Did you know of this?"

Simmons' mouth worked as he tried to come up with words, but General Richards apparently had enough of excuses and only looked at Simmons' gaping mouth before continuing. "Tex, place this man under arrest. All people working with communications are to be immediately escorted to and confined to quarters until this has been cleared up."

Richards glared around at the other managers. They had all subtly slid away from Simmons.

"Tex, have these people escorted to their rooms as well. This stinks."

Several voices suddenly rose in protest, but Richards slammed his hands down on the table with a loud crack.

"You all stuck with Simmons, coming up with reason after reason why this was just a mistake! Well, now you are all going to continue sticking with Simmons until we get this sorted out. We'll see how many of you follow him all the way to the firing squad!"

Every eye was on the General, but a soft groan from the other end of the conference table brought everyone's eye to Simmons. Jon jumped in surprise - the man gave out a few more twitches and slumped down completely. Jon's memory flashed to the alien soldier who had come through the Stargate with Jon - he had also twitched as he collapsed.

He had heard some talk in the infirmary that the soldier's brain had essentially dissolved. They had managed to keep the soldier's body alive for a while, but the brain had broken down into mush within minutes, more slowly followed by the rest of the nervous system..

Jon closed his eyes and winced at what this meant. Simmons wasn't just someone who was turned - he was an alien. Either he always had been an alien, or Simmons had been replaced at some point.

Seconds later, several of Blackbriar's security people entered the room, responding to Tex's summons, and Jon stepped aside for them to begin their work. He was busy thinking.

Trisha and Teal'c came to stand next to him.

"This is going to explode, isn't it?"

Trisha's voice was subdued.

Jon nodded. He was working through the implications. Some group was running very deep covert ops against Earth. They had infiltrated at least one high level bureaucrat and there didn't seem to be much reason to believe it was only Simmons. They had tried to capture him and his team. It wasn't the Lucian Alliance.

"Big. Really big."

"I am most happy to have been able to help expose a traitor, yet this is not the most urgent threat."

Jon winced at Teal'c words.

'_Leave it to the big guy to not be distracted by our Taur'i issues._'

"Crap. I know."

"Alien infiltrators aren't the biggest threat? What is?"

"DanielJackson was possibly captured by the Ori. If that is so, the Ori now have knowledge of Earth and the Alpha base."

Jon sighed.

'_When it rains, it pours._'

"I'll talk with the General and Tex. See if there's anything we can do about preparing something."

Jon began to walk toward where General Richards was barking out orders and then turned back.

"Trisha, what were you doing in the hallway? You're supposed to be in the infirmary."

She shrugged. "It's just bandages. I can heal as well out here as in there. I heard someone mention Teal'c arrived. I figured he was coming to see you."

Jon couldn't help a little smile come up. He had friends.

"I'm going to be busy for a while between Simmons and the Ori. Teal'c, are you headed back to Earth right away?"

"I am not. SG-1 is on break." Teal'c turned to Trisha. "I will be here several days. Jon informed me that you are a cunning warrior. Trish'a, would you train me in your combat methods?"

Jon laughed. "Damn, Teal'c. If she weren't all shot up, I'd lay money on her beating your ass."

Trisha ignored Jon. "Teal'c it would be my honor. I would like to learn Jaffa combat as well if you would teach me."

Teal'c gave a solemn bow.

Jon smirked. "Well, let's meet at the commissary in a couple hours. I'll be starving by then and I'll need a break."

The two warriors turned toward the door as Jon turned back to General Richards.

He groaned a little. Telling General Richards about a potential threat from the Ori was going to set off another bomb in the already disturbed base.

"I need a break already," he muttered as he stepped forward.

* * *

Trisha watched the massive Jaffa across from her pull on his gloves. She was in pain, nearly sixty stitches scattered across her body ensured that, but she knew it wasn't enough to disable her. Her more serious concern was that the blood loss had sapped her stamina.

Well, she wasn't about to seriously match strength with this mountain of a man, so she would have to rely entirely on skills. She had done a little asking around about Teal'c, but most of the base was as new as she was. She knew he was a member of the legendary SG-1 team, had a goa'uld in his stomach, and was a few hundred years old.

That was probably the hardest thing to swallow. He was a tower of bulging muscle without any of the softening that was nearly inevitable in aging bodybuilders. He seemed to be in his early thirties until you saw his wise eyes.

He pounded his gloves a couple times to fit them to his hands better and gave her a small bow.

"I am ready, Trish'a."

Trisha loved the slightly exotic sound he gave the name. She liked her name, but it was a common one. With his accent it suddenly had some spice to it.

She gave a brief bow of her own and stepped forward, crouching slightly.

The dramatic mis-match had drawn an audience of the other people working out in the gym. She admired Teal'c guts - if he beat her, it would hardly be noteworthy, but if she beat him it would be a huge blow to his reputation. All loss and no gain for him.

He stepped forward and she could tell he was light on his feet, or perhaps, perfectly balanced was a better description. They circled slightly, and she knew her body was giving away a lot more openings than his. She cursed her movements as they were made choppy by the multitude of pains twitching at her muscles.

She wasn't going to bother him with punches. Maybe some 'dirty' strikes would work on him, but this was just training. But training, or not, she was going to take him down.

She danced in with a potential sweep, but she didn't bother continuing - his leg had instantly settled into the floor more solid than a tree trunk.

She backed off, planning another way to beat his strength and weight.

Teal'c glided in, deceptively quickly and a right came whistling in at her head. She knew it was a test. He knew it was a test. Perfect!

Instead of ducking back, Trisha stepped in closer and twisted, grasping his body with one arm and sticking her back to his broad torso. His massive arms folded down around her, trapping her as sure as steel chains.

She had him.

He had never done any grappling work she realized with certainty, and she hugged his arm as she pulled her body forward, thrusting out with her hips against his thighs.

Leverage was a bitch. Her bitch.

Teal'c let out a startled yelp as he tilted over and Trisha threw every ounce into pulling him over her back while straightening her legs. She couldn't truly 'throw' close to three hundred pounds, but pivot it over her back and slam it down on the ground? Yeah, she could do that.

She could feel him already shifting his body to roll up, but she grabbed his arm and jumped into an armbar. Without thought her heel pounded into the side of his jaw as she locked her body around his arm and strained backwards, trying to lay back with his arm.

'_Fuck!_'

It was like trying to bend a metal bar! The huge guy was curling her body weight and all the leverage she could bring!

She slammed her heel down onto his nose with a crunch, giving him something else to think about.

It was just enough to let her get his arm straight enough to put leverage back on her side.

It was still unbelievably difficult to straighten his arm. '_Damn he's strong!_'

Leverage was winning though. Her entire body was straining back on his wrist, her legs locked across his chest and throat.

He lunged forward, trying to sit up, and almost succeeded.

There were some defenses to this armbar, but if he didn't know them …

Instead of struggling to roll out or sit up, Teal'c took the other way, he kicked his legs and rolled backwards over his shoulder, taking her with him.

"Ahhhh!"

A small yell escaped her mouth as her body was rolled over, pressing their weight against a score of stitches on her arm.

'_Guess he figured that out pretty quickly._'

She latched on all the harder, straining back with everything she had, trying to end it before he had time to finish his escape.

Now face down, she could apply more pressure, but Teal'c could try to get to his feet. Twice he tried to pull his knees to his chest and twice she yanked back, pulling him off balance.

Several more seconds passed as he tried to pull his arm out of the hyper-extension. Trisha could tell he was going to get out if he kept this up much longer. She was already tiring.

"Your parents' brothers."

The voice was strained, but it was clear.

'_My parents' brothers? Uncle Jerome? Uncle Phil? Uncle … Oh! Uncle!_'

She let loose of her hold and squirmed back out of his way.

Teal'c slowly pulled himself to his knees, carefully using only one arm.

'_Oh shit! He's gonna be pissed. I … I didn't mean to really damage him._'

She stood up herself and backed away, trying to stay alert. Some guys would be furious after losing and getting hurt.

She noticed blood on the mat under Teal'c's face and as he stood up, she saw blood running freely down from his nose and dripping from his chin.

'_Shit and double shit!_'

She remembered pounding her heel into his nose, trying to distract him. That had been a huge step too far for a sparring match. It had been a reflex, but that was a small excuse to people who got hurt.

"You ok?"

Her heart was in her stomach.

'_I so fucked this up! Damn it Trish!_'

She liked the guy. She was a little in awe of him and SG-1. Was a little bit fascinated by him - he was the first alien she had ever met. Jon's friend. And she had just hurt him in what was supposed to be a friendly sparring match.

He straightened and she carefully met his eyes.

"I am not seriously injured. Thank you for your concern."

Trisha straightened in confusion.

'_Thank you?_'

"Sorry about the nose. I got a bit carried away, I guess."

A look of puzzlement crossed his face as he touched his fingers to his upper lip and looked at them.

'Ah. It is a minor injury. It was a well executed strike. Would you please demonstrate the throw to me again?"

A wave of relief washed over her.

'_Well, if he's not going to worry about it._'

Trisha stepped forward, carefully lowering her defenses. Teal'c didn't seem the type to play dirty, but she had gone a lot further than a typical match was supposed to go.

"Sure. The key is pulling yourself up tight to your target and getting your hips under his center of balance."

She swallowed as she moved up to him. She wasn't used to feeling small, but Teal'c was a big guy! She slowly wrapped her arm around his waist, amazed at how little of him she was able to wrap around.

She snugged her butt tightly against his groin. She didn't mind, but she had worked with some guys who did. Teal'c didn't seem to notice.

"It helps that I'm smaller than you. As I pull here -" she tugged at his waist, "- and thrust here -" she pushed back with her butt, again tipping him off balance, '- it leaves you off balance and I can throw you."

In slow motion his weight nearly buckled her legs and the dozen wounds across her back and arms yelled out, but Trisha gritted her teeth and held his weight up for a second before rolling him forward to fall to the ground, more gently this time.

"Got it?"

She looked at him to see if he understood, and his face was a study in intensity.

'_Yeah, he's got it. I'll never pull that one on him again._'

"I believe I understand. I shall need to practice many times to become as deadly as you."

'_Wow!_'

A sudden rush of attraction rolled over her.

"That's one of the nicest compliments I've ever received, Teal'c. Thank you."

A small nod and smile came up from his face. It was a small smile, but on his normally stoic face, it seemed to light the entire room.

"Would you please continue with your arm immobilization technique?"

'_Wow, he's really serious about this._'

"Certainly. We usually call it an arm lock or armbar. As you came over and down, I kept hold of your arm and ..."

Her stomach was heat and fire as she slid her legs down around his arm.

She had sparred with Jon, and a couple times those sparring matches had managed to lose their clothes, but that had been fun and excitement, and they had known it going in. She didn't get turned on during sparring. Except, apparently, this time.

The lesson went on, as Trisha began teaching the massive Jaffa a dozen different ground-fighting techniques from jiu-jitsu, judo, and the hodge-podge of techniques she had learned while competing in mixed martial arts. It rarely took more than one demonstration for him to pick up the basics, and his questions were always direct and to the point.

He didn't hurry through practicing the techniques, either. He carefully paid attention to her and slowly slid his body through and around her own as he practiced each technique.

Trisha several times had to work to keep her mind on the training and not drift off into … other places. Sliding him into a triangle, she almost ground her pelvis against him, before she caught herself.

By the time they stopped, Trisha's body was covered in sweat and blood as her stitches bled out, but neither of them remarked on it.

'_Damn that stings, but … SO worth it._'

Teal'c own body was covered in sweat, and she could tell he was still favoring the arm she had first locked.

"I thank you for your teaching, Trish'a," Teal'c said in a formal tone. "I look forward to our next match when I shall put them into practice. Perhaps you will not find me such easy prey."

'_Easy prey? Never!_'

Trisha grinned at him, but returned the formal bow with a careful honor. "You will note I did not teach you any of the escapes from the techniques. I too look forward to our next match."

She watched his eyes narrow as he mentally reviewed their training session. His focus returned to her and she felt her stomach coil and warm as that small smile began to light up.

He gave a much deeper than normal bow and she wished she knew what Jaffa culture meant by bows. Japanese culture had like a million of 'em.

"I would be proud to re-bandage your wounds, Trish'a."

Her wounds - dozens of splinters dug out, bruising across her back, shallow bullet wounds along her arms and legs, and a nasty furrow from one side to the other across her upper stomach from a bullet that had entered the side of her armor and followed the inside of her armor burning and scratching along. Yeah, they definitely needed rebandaged.

'_And Teal'c hands running along my skin. Yeah, I could go for that._'

"I've got a pretty good supply of bandages and a shower back at my room. Let's see how good your fingers are."

She wasn't sure if the twitch of his hands at that point meant anything or not.

'_Alien? You gonna do this girl? Well, be direct. If he's not up for it, there's no shame. But, damn, I hope he is._'

They made their way through the halls, both sweaty and bloody, and everyone they met stared at them. Trisha could almost feel the base's rumor mill starting. That could be a hilariously fun bunch of rumors.

She swiped her badge at her door and stepped inside, stomach beginning to churn in anticipation.

"Grab a shower yourself, and I'll start pulling out the bandages and stuff."

Teal'c gave a short nod and stepped into her small bathroom. There were very, very few women on base, and she had wound up with a private room. It wasn't a suite, but a large room that had a bed and desk was a step above barracks-style housing.

She began pulling out a variety of bandages and antiseptic creams. She could hear the shower run and her imagination had no trouble taking the hard body she had grabbed and rolled with for the last hour and removing the clothes. And adding hot water and soapy suds running down the chest, over the stomach, and ….

Whew. She pulled her thoughts back to the bandages she was blankly holding in her hands. Right. Gotta get the bandages ready. Her fingers paused over the needle and thread. She knew quite a few of her stitches should probably be re-done, but that would hurt and definitely put a cramp in the mood. Ah hell. It had to be done.

Maybe this would just be re-bandaging things.

Barely two minutes had passed in the shower before it turned off, and she quickly finished her collection, and then grabbed some clothes for herself. Skip the panties. A pair of shorts. No bra. A t-shirt. If he responded, then she sure as hell was going to be ready.

Teal'c stepped out of the bathroom, and Trisha bit her lip to keep from gasping at the sight. His BDU pants had been replaced with loose, lightweight linen pants and that was it. A large scar crossed his stomach, but she had expected that. The rest of the body was … beautiful. She had expected a body-builder's body from the outlines of the arms and chest she had seen under his shirt. Instead it was a balanced build with everything in proportion with everything else. Except bigger.

She walked over to him, too mesmerized to attempt a sultry walk herself. She put her hand on his chest and almost shuddered.

She looked up into his face and was instantly drawn into the soft look of his eyes. Ancient understanding. Wisdom. Acceptance. Desire. Confidence. Peace.

Trisha swallowed. This was suddenly feeling a lot different than a fun roll.

Perhaps. But maybe she was reading too much into things as well. She would continue on just as she always did. Always be honest and direct. She had seen far too much manipulation in her life to want anything else. If something more was built here, then so be it.

She took a quick breath.

"You are a very good man."

She blinked. She had meant to say 'attractive'. Where had that come from?

'_Way to go, girl. Smooth come on._'

"You too, are a woman of honor. I wish to know you more."

Her heart jumped a little. Not the most passionate declaration, but if he spoke as truly as she suspected, then he meant that more fully than most men would have with a long speech.

"Well, I'll get my shower, you can patch me up, and I'll get to know you more as well."

She traced her finger down his chest, down his stomach, across the scar, and caught at his waistband. It might become 'more', but she knew what she wanted right now.

The chest in front of her expanded a little as she heard his breath suck in, and she thought she caught just a hint of tension in Teal'c voice.

"I look forward to it."

* * *

**A/N: Yup, when Teal'c walked in on Jon and Trisha, I suddenly realized that they'd be a great match for each other. A deep similarity at their cores, both direct and honest, but with enough differences in other things to keep them from being clones of each other. I've never really cared for the possible Jaffa women that Teal'c met in the show. They're too close to being just like Teal'c - not enough difference to strike "sparks". Anyway, I hope you enjoyed. I haven't written a more mature continuation of this chapter, but I know I will have something giving a bit more detail about Trish'a and Teal'c together at some point.**


	25. ALL The Details

**A bit shorter than normal, but I had so much fun writing this out that I didn't want to wait to post it. :-) I hope you guys enjoy!**

* * *

Jon collapsed onto the cafeteria's bench, thankful for the brief respite from setting up emergency security protocols to double-check everyone with multiple different people, check incoming logs and comparing with reported, and look for people who might be either under alien influence or alien doppelgangers. Tex had been running the higher-level meetings and handshakes while Jon had been implementing decisions. A quick burst of sympathy for his older version washed over him.

Dr. Sanjay from medical trotted into the cafeteria looking around, and Jon considered sliding under the table. It was probably the preliminary medical results on how Simmons had been able to kill himself. It might be something they could check for in other people.

"Nope. Get it over with, Johnny boy," he muttered to himself. "Otherwise he'll just track you down later."

He stood and headed for the cafeteria's sandwich bar. The movement caught the young doctor's eyes and he started crossing the room to intercept Jon.

"Tell me while I'm making a sandwich."

"Sorry Jon, but yeah, this is another hurry thing. Looks like it was the same method used in the alien soldier that came in with you. We were able to check Simmons much more quickly after death, though - his brain hadn't dissolved nearly as much."

Jon paused as he picked up the roast beef slices. Dissolving brains.

He shrugged and plopped the meat down on his slice of bread. He'd dealt with worse.

"So, anything we'll be able to spot easily? Quick x-ray for people and we'll spot the aliens?"

Dr. Sanjay shook his head. "I'm afraid not. It seems that the mechanism is entirely biological. There are glands attached to the internal carotid arteries and vertebrobasilar arteries which supply the cerebrum with blood. The release of the neurotoxin is instantly spread through the entire brain and brain stem, bringing instantaneous death and dissolution of neural -"

Jon cut him off. "Not worried about the details. We can't see this with an x-ray?"

"No. We'd need a CT scan to check for tissue like this. You see, an x-ray will only - "

"Fine. CT scans. Got it." He started piling on toppings. "So. Is that really Simmons and brain-tweaked, or did someone make a doppelganger?"

Dr. Sanjay looked uncertain, and chose his words carefully. "There are no signs of surgery such as facial reconstruction."

"So, some sort of mind control is what you're saying, complete with a failsafe?"

The doctor looked uncomfortable. "I … that seems to be the only possibility."

"But?" Jon could tell the doctor wasn't comfortable with his statement.

"Well, two things. First, alien surgical possibilities are unknown. I've requested some DNA checks to double-check, but 'surgery' without scars isn't inconceivable at all. Second, long-term brainwashing to force the sort of detailed changes needed to have Simmons skillfully spy just isn't possible. There would need to be a continual, direct control to have someone do complicated things like spying."

Jon snorted. Scientists.

"You're getting way too technical, doc. Money. Piles of money, thrill of the game, and possible other incentives can turn a person a lot better and more reliably than mind control."

"Oh. Well, I guess so. He didn't really seem like that."

"Most spies don't. No one suspected Hanson or Ames either."

The young man looked puzzled and Jon groaned to himself.

'_Kids these days. No knowledge of history._'

"Well … what about the suicide trigger? There's no way I'd let anyone put something like that in my head for any reason."

Jon frowned. Good point.

"He might not have known about it."

Jon shook his head. They were getting too far off into speculation.

"Regardless, we don't know how it went down yet. I'm just looking for a way to tell if they have other agents here. Fingerprints. X-rays. Something we can use quickly."

The doctor was already shaking his head. "CT scans are what we would need to determine if the glands were there or not. We only have two CT machines, and each scan takes fifteen minutes plus prep and analysis time. I don't think that's going to be your answer."

"All right," Jon sighed. Of course it wouldn't be that easy. "Well, let me know when the DNA results come in. That'll answer our question of whether Simmons was turned somehow or was a doppelganger."

Dr. Sanjay nodded and left. Jon paid for his sandwich and made his way back over to his table.

His mind was spinning with possibilities. Suicide wasn't at all like the Lucian Alliance's regular MO. Someone else. They were already on Earth. They had infiltrate the Stargate program, somehow, and not just at a low-level position. Simmons had been the top civilian on the base and had access to just about everything.

If they could get Simmons, they might be able to get anyone. Reviews of all communications in and out, as well as all Simmons' communications, were happening. However, separate spies with careful passing of information would be hard to detect.

There could be spies among his own people, though he hated to think of that. He'd need to get his own core group cleared with these CT scans. Including himself. He had to have at least a few people he could trust.

They needed to be looking for exfiltration. Exfiltration! No one died if they didn't have to, and Simmons wouldn't have been any different. He _had_ to have known that he was going to be discovered for holding back the information about the Lucian Alliance. He must have had a plan for leaving the base.

Someone coming in to pick him up or a secret ship somewhere nearby?

Something pulled his attention away from his destroyed sandwich. Jon looked up toward the cafeteria entrance.

Teal'c and Trisha.

He smiled. Perfect. He could trust these two - Teal'c he trusted more than any other person in the galaxy except maybe Sam and Danny boy. He had known Trisha before the Stargate came up and there hadn't been time between being tapped for the Stargate program to be approached, much less turned.

The two came closer, walking almost shoulder to shoulder. They … dang. They had!

"T! Trisha! You dogs!"

Trisha looked surprised for some reason. Teal'c looked at him with a tiny tilt of the head, looking for a clarification.

"Why didn't you invite me? I would have loved to watch!"

Trisha's expression moved from 'surprised' to completely stunned shock - her mouth hanging open. Jon wasn't sure why she was so surprised.

Teal'c also seemed to be thinking a lot longer than normal, though Jon couldn't read much of anything in his expression.

"You two must have had a great time. You both look exhausted. I told you Teal'c that she was phenomenal - I did give you warning about her."

Trisha's mouth was beginning to soundlessly open and close and Jon began to worry about her.

"Ahhhh. Yes." Teal'c finally replied. Jon's confusion grew.

Teal'c turned to Trisha. "Jon told me when I first saw you both at his apartment that you would best me in combat and that he desired to watch our first match."

Jon nodded. It was obvious.

"Yeah, you two look done in. T, you've got a pair of shiners going and your nose is puffy. Trisha, you're exhausted and it looks like Teal'c re-did a few of your stitches. I recognize your handiwork, old buddy."

She had changed into a short-sleeved shirt and the four stitches that had been on her forearm were reddened, and one of them had been broken and had a new stitch that had one of Teal'c weird knots holding the threads.

Trisha finally regained her ability to speak. "Oh! Yeah. Yeah. We, um, sparred. It was great." She looked at Teal'c with a big smile. "It was really, really great."

Teal'c looked at her with a genuine smile. "It was indeed most delightful and excellent, Trish'a."

Jon smiled to have his two friends become friends as well. He suspected they would see plenty of admirable qualities in each other. Warriors through and through with strong codes of honor under their very different cultures.

"Let's grab something to eat."

They both looked at the remnants of his sandwich and up at him.

"Well, I still haven't had any time for dessert. Come on. You two have to have worked up a hell of an appetite together."

"Indeed we have. I believe I could eat an equine animal."

Trisha smirked up at the tall Jaffa and bumped him with her shoulder. He looked back down with a distinct twinkle in his eyes.

'_Hmm, I wonder if I should try to set those two up. I'll bet they'd be good together,_' Jon thought as they all strode back toward the cafeteria. '_They seem to be clicking well together. Maybe after the crazy settles down, I'll try to give them a nudge. See if I can get it through their thick skulls that they'd be good for each other._'

'_Time for playing matchmaker later, though. Now we've got some stuff I could use their advice on._'

"Guys, let's head back to my room to eat. I've got a few things I want to run by you. But, first things first, I want to hear how the first match went. All the gory details!"


	26. Light Dawning? Naaahh

**I admit I enjoyed Jon being 'clueless' a lot. Yeah, I know it's sort of stereotypical for a guy to be clueless to relationships happening around him, but I don't mind going with the stereotype since Jack/Jon really is a bit dense in that regard.**

**Hopefully I didn't put in too much genetics fluff in here, but I did want to get at least a bit in there to have something to work with beyond vague handwaving. Hopefully I didn't go spiraling out into nonsense. I probably only know enough about genetics to be dangerous in writing about it. :-)**

* * *

**May 23rd, 2010, Alpha Site (two days later)**

"... very clearly not human, though there are nearly three hundred different areas where Simmons DNA was spliced over the original DNA. Around sixty percent of the locations where the DNA was spliced in was in areas that express gross physical characteristics - skeletal structures, hair and skin colors, facial structures."

Dr. Fitz, lead medical officer of the Alpha base, was giving the briefing on the DNA results.

"Many more areas were also spliced in, though there are several for which we don't know exactly what they are for. There are also sixteen sites where significant genetic code was added. Again, we don't know what this code expresses in the body, but our current guess is that it has to do with the neurotoxin glands in the brain."

'_Goa'uld. We need some goa'uld here to liven things up. I'm going to die in a meeting. This sucks._'

"The codons were spliced in with unknown techniques that left interesting structures where the original DNA of the original person was merged with the DNA taken from Simmons. The merging pattern seemed to follow a…."

Jon's pad of paper had three pages filled up with doodles so far, but he didn't like how this one was turning out - it was losing cohesion. He was getting too bored to doodle. Crap.

The beginning of the briefing had been a burst of interesting news - Simmons' body wasn't actually Simmons, a second infiltrator had been found among the communications staff but had also died upon arrest, and a ship had been detected coming close to the base, but had stayed out of visual range and had quickly left as soon as the X fighters had been launched.

Now, the heads of base operations were getting updated on the minutia of procedures being done to ensure future security and speculations as to the abilities of the aliens based of their information so far. Jon wished he could pull another 'my leg is hurting' escape, but his calf had healed quickly. It wasn't back to normal, but there was only a bit of soreness and weakness, and the scar was already beginning to calm back down from red to white. Yet another to add to his new collection.

"The changes to the body after the DNA changes have fully propagated would be far too gradual, and so other techniques must be utilized to force the body to change into the new form - rapid cellular multiplication, destruction of existing -"

"Doctor, may I ask a quick question?"

Jon didn't bother to wait for permission before continuing his interruption.

"Can we get some way of quickly checking DNA for differences from the original DNA for our people?"

The doctor rolled his eyes.

"This is not TV. We can't do full DNA profiles in time for lunch."

The doctor's tone was filled with scorn and irritation at Jon's question.

"We fast-tracked these samples through the SGC where they spent two days doing a partial profile. We can't do that for everyone, though. SGC has higher priorities with the Ori, and they had to push back a lot of their own work to fit this in. We were lucky to get this much data.

"No - we can't check everyone to make sure their DNA is the same as it was before. Clear?"

Jon had schooled his face to blankness as soon as the man had started his reply. It wouldn't do to let the disgust he felt for the man show.

He nodded. Short. Tight. Tex, sitting across the table, gave him an apologetic look.

Jon spent a few seconds thinking about the doctor sitting in a goa'uld torture room, but dropped it.

Carter. Carter could have figured out a way. He needed Carter on this, but she might be half-way across the galaxy for all he knew. Damn all _other_ scientists. Why couldn't there be more scientists that were worth a damn?

Hopefully Cassie would become … Cassie! She was working in genetics, even!

Cassie wasn't exactly cleared. Sort of. But she knew about the program, was a geneticist, and was smart as hell. There was no way he could get her brought in on the project, officially. How could he get her help? Messages could be sent out through the Stargate, but those were pretty official, and even private messages were screened for classified information. He had sent two letters to Cassie and had received several dozen emails from her.

He would need to talk in person. He was overdue for time back on Earth. He hadn't taken his time, instead giving more time to one of the men who had a family. He was on light duty for another week as his calf healed up, so he should be able to request the Earth-side time.

He started working on his excuse for requesting the time off and glanced up at Tex. Tex would give it, but he wasn't sure how much to say to Tex - it might cause trouble for the man. He could let anyone know he was going outside the Stargate program for help, especially with highly classified data like this.

Tex, feeling Jon's attention glanced over and then did a double take at Jon. A cautious look came over Tex's face.

Jon tried to communicate that he had a plan, but he and Tex didn't have the effortless silent communication he shared with his old team. Instead Tex began to look uncomfortable. Jon smiled to reassure him, but that merely increased Tex's unease to borderline alarm.

Jon could almost hear the wheels in Tex's head spin trying to figure out what Jon was planning.

'_Don't worry,_' Jon mouthed over. Facial expression moved from alarm to pain.

Tex looked skeptical. '_Don't worry? Ri-i-i-i-ight._'

Jon was definitely able to read _that_ expression. He smirked.

An hour later the meeting finally ended and Tex cornered Jon and pulled him over to a corner.

"What are you planning, hombre?"

"Nothing! I just realized that I really want some time off. I haven't been back on Earth for over nine months. I want to take my Earth-side time now."

"Right," sarcasm veritably dripped from Tex's drawl. "You just now decided you want to take some vacation time?"

Jon shrugged.

Tex considered Jon carefully for a moment. "This ain't gonna bring any trouble is it?"

"Nope. I'll come back refreshed and maybe the down time will give me time to figure out some of our problems."

A flash of realization crossed Tex's face and then vanished, his face assuming a long, sad expression.

"Well, Jon. I know you've been working hard lately. Things are slowing down a little, so I think you'd best get your vacation in while you can. Drop me an email request, and I'll take care of the rest."

"Thanks Tex. I appreciate it."

The next morning Teal'c, Jon, and Trisha stood before the Stargate, waiting for the scheduled outgoing wormhole to Earth.

"You've got the official duties down, and you know my unofficial concerns too. You'll be just fine."

Trisha nodded. "Yeah, but I really hate paperwork. Give me an army of Ori to fight, any day."

Jon smirked. He had suggested Trisha as his replacement while he was gone. She was also on light duty, so it wouldn't disrupt any protection schedules. That, and she was one of the still limited group of people who had been verified to not be infiltrators.

"I believe General O'Neill stated much the same sentiment, Trish'a. Battles take many different forms. The Free Jaffa are poorly prepared for the challenges of large organizations, for all we know is combat. I wish I could stay and learn with you, but I am needed elsewhere."

Jon raised his eyebrows. He hadn't been keeping up on the state of the Free Jaffa. He had heard that Dakara had been hit hard - destroying the powerful weapon on the planet. He hadn't realized the Jaffa had been quite so splintered.

"I too wish you could stay. I enjoy our matches," Trisha replied.

Jon tried not to roll his eyes. These two were too 'warrior' for their own good. Any two people who fit as well as these two needed to get together for more than sparring matches. He'd talk to Teal'c once they got to the SGC. Trisha would pin his ears back if he tried to meddle in her love life, but Teal'c might listen.

The loudspeakers announced the dialing was impending, and the sound of the Stargate turning and chevrons locking into place filled the cavern.

Jon smiled at the sight. He would never tire of it.

"Alright campers, let's head 'em out."

He took several steps toward the Stargate before he realized Teal'c wasn't with him. He glanced back to see Trisha holding his hand and speaking softly to him.

A small smile tugged at the corners of Teal'c's mouth and he inclined his head in a small bow and whispered something back to her. Trisha's eyes crinkled in a small grin and she stood back, giving a formal bow that Jon thought looked a lot like a Jaffa bow of friendliness and familiarity.

'_Uh oh. She is attracted to Teal'c. I'll need to clue the big guy in._'

Teal'c strode to catch up with Jon.

"Trisha had something to say?"

Teal'c didn't break stride.

"Indeed."

"Ahh."

In some ways the big Jaffa was still undecipherable to Jon. The shimmering blue surface of the Stargate swallowed them up and Jon stepped out the other side on Earth.

"Teal'c, glad to see you! We've got a mission likely coming up in a few hours. Merlin's phase fiddling stuff might be what we need to deal with some Priors. Sam's going nuts. We haven't gotten the briefing yet, but I'm pretty sure we're going to be heading out."

Mitchell was waiting for Teal'c as they stepped out, and Jon sighed.

'_Young pup._'

The guy did well - Jon had kept tabs on SG1's actions as well as he could now that he was back in the Stargate program - but Jon couldn't help a little piece of resentment bubble up.

He pushed it back down.

"Looks like you're busy, buddy. I'll see myself out."

Teal'c clasped forearms with Jon.

"Take care, Jon, and convey my regards to CassandraFrasier."

Jon looked hard at Teal'c searching for any clues to how much the apparently too insightful Jaffa had figured out. There was nothing but a vague appearance of pleasure with a hint of amusement.

Jon sighed and shook his head. Teal'c was so stinkin' quiet that people tended to overlook how smart he was.

"I'll do that. You take care yourself."

Teal'c nodded.

As Jon walked away, he poked Mitchell in the arm.

"And make sure this kid doesn't touch anything," he called back to Teal'c.

Jon ignored the startled "Hey" behind him and left the room.

Before he left the Alpha site, he had decided to check in on Carter, but now he was uncertain. He worked his way over to the elevators and hesitated at punching in her floor, but an airman walked in with him and punched the button for Sam's floor anyway.

'_Eh, go for it. Just peek in and check on her._'

As he walked up to her lab door, he could hear voices inside.

"... less than three, we won't have enough power to cover more than a couple hundred square meters. The power supply is non-linear, though. I want a quick estimate of the number of naquadah generators necessary to cover anything from a house to Australia."

Jon smiled at the sound. Sam's voice was snapping out directions and it sounded like a few other people were in there as well. He was glad to hear her taking charge more - she needed to have the confidence that came from experiencing command. She'd always had confidence issues.

'_I wonder if Jack is helping with that._'

The thought crossed his mind and he quickly shoved it aside. He might have given them the nudge to get together, but he sure as hell didn't _like_ thinking about it.

He came to her doorway and leaned against the frame, a rush of nostalgia overcoming him. How many times had he done this … before ...

Aw crap. She was busy, in her element, eyes and movement sparking with energy as she worked on the latest doohicky phase whatever with two other scientists helping. He really shouldn't interrupt.

Jon smiled wistfully and pushed himself off the frame.

The movement caught one of the scientists' attention and she looked up, an appreciative smile forming on her face as she saw Jon.

"Hi. Can I help you?" She tucked an imaginary hair behind her ear.

Sam glanced up from her artifact and met Jon's eyes.

"Jon!"

Her voice was harried, but it was happy. Jon sighed. It still made his heart flip a little.

"Hey Carter. I'm just passing through. Thought I'd see how my favorite scientist is doing. Looks like you're busy."

She looked around at the chaos of her lab. It usually wasn't usually this bad, and Jon wondered if she had jumped into her work to keep from worrying about Daniel.

"Yeah," she gestured around her. "We got some pretty powerful stuff from an … oh, um … Jon -"

He could guess what she was thinking about. "Yeah, I heard about Daniel. Don't worry about him. Daniel is uniquely bad at dying. We'll see him again, soon."

"Yeah, I'm sure we will."

She didn't sound particularly certain, and Jon frowned.

"Yes we will. Daniel makes friends all over, including some in really high places. There's not a chance that he won't come back soon."

Sam smiled and nodded at Jon's point. "Very true."

Jon decided to take his leave. She really was busy and he didn't want to interrupt. She was literally busy saving the universe.

"I really do need to get going. I just wanted to swing by and … say hi."

"Thank you for coming by, Jon. I wish we had more time, but …" she faded off and Jon nodded.

"Absolutely. I understand. Now get back in there and save the universe."

Sam giggled and threw a mock salute. "Yes sir! Saving the universe as ordered, sir!"

Jon waved and headed off, calling back over his shoulder, "What have I told you about giggling, Carter?"

He sighed as he entered the elevator and headed toward the surface.

'_I'm happy for her and Jack. I really am. And more than that, it's for the best._'

He checked out, and called for a ride to the Springs.

'_I wouldn't mind finding someone, though._'

He pushed the thought back. It was probably a good thing he was thinking about finding someone else - progressing with his life and all that. It still sucked, though.


	27. A Little Green Eyed

**Behind the scenes note about Teal'c, Jon, and Trisha triggered by ebeneez01's comment- Trisha and Jon were clear that they were just casual. Trisha and Jon both know they haven't been an item. A race (Jaffa) who have been bred by their gods for war are going to have MUCH different sexual mores and expectations than modern Earth societies. There aren't any Earth examples of combat-centric societies with relatively equal rights for women (even to the limited equality Jaffa seem to have in the show), so I guessed a little and generated a few possibilities in my mind. I actually started writing it with Teal'c asking Jon's status with Trisha, but it was getting awkward.**

**So, how did I decide to write it as I did? Hours of careful consideration and research?**

**Nah. I tossed all that reasoning above and went with what flowed better for me writing it. Voila! Thus you get to see the inner workings of a poser writer's mind! :-)**

**Thank you all for the reviews, and I agree with you - Jon is very lucky that Trisha didn't have time to recover from her shock before Teal'c clued in on what Jon was talking about. Yeah, Jon would have gotten hurt.**

* * *

**May 24th, 2010, Stanford University Medical Research Center, California**

It had been early morning back at the Alpha site, but 2100 in Cheyenne Mountain. It was too late to make a flight that night, but Jon had found an 0630 flight out to San Fran International. A few naps while waiting in the airport had helped his body adjust to the twelve hour time difference, and as he pulled his rental car into Stanford University's medical center parking he was feeling pretty good in spite of his body insisting that it was actually 2300 instead of 1100.

Jon pulled the large manilla envelope with the results from the alien's body. He had requested a copy on a pretense, and then run off a photocopy before returning it to the medical office. Cassie would flip out if he knew her half as well as he thought he did. Her last email message had nearly a page and a half of gushing over a breakthrough she had just made in predicting mutation rates in specific areas of DNA given different types of environmental stresses. Jon had done his research on it and had been thoroughly impressed - he couldn't understand all the details of what she was doing, but had been able to work out enough of it that he decided she was going to be due a Nobel prize. At least he thought she should get one.

A large bouquet of wildflowers was congratulations on her new job at the university she had just started the week before. No undergraduates got these positions, but Cassie with her already-published paper had gotten the position. That bit of news had taken the other three pages of her letter.

A minute later he had convinced the grey-haired receptionist at the front desk of the Beckman Center to send a request over the PA system for Cassandra Frasier to report to the front desk. Shortly he saw her come into the lobby and he pulled the flowers between himself and Cassie as she strode to the desk, white lab coat flaring behind.

"Yes, I'm Cassandra."

Jon walked behind her as Cassie faced the receptionist. The woman nodded behind Cassie, and Cassie turned to face him.

"Jon?" Her face showed shock as he pulled the flowers away from his face. He was amazed at how mature she looked. Nine months had taken her from a college kid to a young professional!

"Jon!" She gave a squeal that reminded him of her little kid years and launched herself at him. He grabbed her up and spun her around before setting her down.

"What are you doing here? I thought you were out traveling!"

"Oh, I've got a few days here before I need to head on and I thought I'd stop in and see my favorite girl. Surprise!"

"No kidding - surprise! You didn't mention anything about getting away." She paused for a moment, and Jon could almost see speculations and connections being made. "You're not just here on break, are you?"

'_Dang, she's good! That's exactly what I need._'

"Of course I'm on break! I'll take you out to lunch and we can catch up on stuff."

For some reason her face fell a little, but she still grinned at him before grabbing the flowers and turning to the receptionist. "Can I get him a visitor's badge? I want to get these flowers into some water."

The woman smiled conspiratorially at Cassie and pulled out a badge with a big T on it.

"Here you go honey. Go take care of those flowers and that boy."

Jon smirked a little at Cassie's blush and grabbed the badge without further comment as they headed off.

He didn't want to cause her any problems with a boyfriend, so he didn't tweak her any more. The thought of Cassie and a boyfriend gave him a quick pang of irritation. She hadn't mentioned a boyfriend, but she was a beautiful girl - no, woman - and surrounded by lots of smart and handsome young men. He swallowed his irritation. He might be here for a few days if it took that long for Cassie to figure out a solution and would try to meet the guy. He could practically hear Sam's voice warning him to take it easy on any boyfriends and that Cassie was a mature young woman who could make perfectly good decisions _on her own_.

'_Yeah, yeah. I'll be nice. Ish._'

Cassie began giving him a running commentary on where things were on her way back to her lab. As they walked back, Cassie waved and greeted most of the people along the way, and Jon was amused to hear "What are you doing out of your hole," repeated several times. Popular and known as a workaholic already.

'_With both Janet and Sam as role models, I guess I shouldn't be surprised._'

Jon noted a few raised eyebrows and curious expressions as they passed, too, and he began to regret bringing the flowers. They had just been a bit of fun - something he figured Cassie would like. Girls always liked getting flowers.

'_Yeah, but you aren't fifty years old any more, and flowers from a guy her own age sends a lot different signal._'

Jon sighed inside. There were still the little odds and ends he was adjusting to live as a young man, even after five - almost six - years.

They finally worked their way through the maze of hallways to her lab.

"This is where I live these days. Theoretically I'm supposed to have my own desk somewhere, but they're squeezed for space, so I've grabbed the bench in the corner as my area. It works a lot better than an office in a lot of ways."

The referenced bench had several computers on it along with neat stacks of books and notebooks.

"This is worse than Sam's lab - I actually had a clue what some of those things did, didn't have a clue _how_ they worked, but I knew what they were supposed to do. Here? The piles of petri dishes could be anything. You aren't growing any ebola in here, are you?"

Cassie laughed as she stuck the flowers into a large beaker and began filling it with water.

"Don't be silly. We don't grow Ebola here. We keep it stored in the fridge there. Top shelf is Ebola and Ricin. Second shelf is my lunch. Third shelf is Anthrax and weaponized Yersinia pestis."

Jon goggled for a moment before laughing.

'_For a second there …!_'

"Got it. Only eat the fuzzy stuff on the second shelf."

Cassie smiled at him and glanced around the room, making sure no one was tucked behind a machine somewhere.

"So, what really brings you here, Jon?"

Jon lowered his voice to match hers. "Got a couple things you can hopefully help me with. The docs where I am are stick-in-the-mud idiots. I want a smart person to look at this stuff and hopefully work out a solution."

Cassie swallowed and looked pale.

"It's not Ori stuff is it? That thing was scary. Really scary."

He shrugged. "We …"

He walked over to the door and closed it.

"We might have a new player in the galactic scene, and they infiltrated us. They have some genetic disguises they used to duplicate some of our people. We need to figure out some way to identify them quickly."

"Ah." Cassie let out a breath and Jon realized she had been genuinely scared at the possibility of the Ori disease. He realized that it probably had a lot harder impact on her, given that her home world had been wiped out by a weaponized disease.

"Well, the surest way would be to compare the person's previous genetic profile to a person's existing genetic profile."

Jon nodded. "Yeah, the doc said something like that, but he said that also takes way too long to be useful in testing close to a thousand people. Something like a day or two needed per test."

Cassie nodded. "We can do it a bit faster than that here, but it's still most of a day for a full profile. But if they are duplicating the genome of the original person, it might take longer than that to run a complete DNA check. You see, most of our genetic scans don't actually check each and every nucleotide - we don't need to for most things. Instead we just check the presence of each gene and the markers on that -"

Jon held up a hand, stopping her stream. "I love listening to you talk, but we're getting way beyond my knowledge. I brought some stuff that will probably answer your questions."

He pulled up his shirt and pulled the envelope out from where he had tucked it into his waistband.

Cassie snatched it out of his hands and pulled out the papers, avidly scanning them as Jon sat down on a stool. He looked around the room - it was immaculate. A dozen large machines hummed around the edges of the room, and in the middle a few long tables held a variety of large microscopes, computers, and a few machines Jon couldn't guess at. Petri dishes sat in stacks on the tables, and he idly picked one up and fiddled with it. He was pretty sure it was an empty one waiting to be used.

Five minutes later Cassie looked up at him, catching him in the middle of an attempt to spin the petri dish on his finger like a Frisbee.

"Jon, this is incredible! The splices are amazing! It's not merely a cut and paste replacement, but instead they're somehow melding the two genetic codes together - the 'edges' of the replacements are integrated into the existing code of the base DNA! We can't even begin to be able to do something like that. This is at least fifty years ahead of us, but it's not so far ahead as the As … as our friends who are fighting the bugs. This sort of technology would provide us a massive boost in our own development - the Asgard tech is so far ahead that we can't even hope to duplicate it ourselves, but this could be possible!"

Jon smiled and let her gush. She was glowing in her excitement, eyes sparkling and cheeks flushed. She was smart, really smart, but there were lots of smart people out there. She was a lot more rare - she had great insight abilities and a quick mind to put things together. Package it up together with pretty girl and a lively personality and you had as good of a person as you could get.

Cassie eventually came to a stop, looking at Jon with a sudden uncertainty.

"What? What are you looking at?"

"Nothing. Just watching you do your whole babbling thing. I don't think I've ever seen you go into full science geek mode."

"Oh," she looked down with a wince. "Sorry."

Jon jumped up off his stool and grabbed her shoulders. "No! Don't be sorry. It's wonderful. It's lively. It's delightful. It's … you! Don't stop."

Her eyes seemed impossibly large as they looked up and him and a slow blush suffused her cheeks.

"Don't let anyone tell you to change. You're perfect just the way you are. But, how about you take it easy on an old guy who doesn't know anything about genetics?"

Cassie quirked an eyebrow at him. "Old guy?"

Jon chuckled and stepped back. "It's complicated. I still haven't decided what I want my birthday to be. I've listed it as my creation date, but I still usually think of Jack's birthdate as my birthday. I still feel like an old man. High school was hell! You know I only lasted a couple months before I took off - I'm old."

"Well, Mr. Old Guy, how about you buy me some lunch and we can chat. I have some ideas on a quick and easy test, but I can't test it without samples. I'll see what I can do for you after lunch."

His self-reminder to remember his apparent age poked Jon.

"Well, I don't want to cause problems with a boyfriend or anything by taking you out to lunch, but I'd be glad to order some lunch in."

Cassie looked down, uncomfortably. "Don't worry. No boyfriend."

'_Smooth move, Jon. Make her uncomfortable, why don't ya? Probably a breakup or someone turned her down._'

"Well, then," he said, putting extra cheer in his voice, "let's go out for lunch! You have some favorite places around here?"

"During the school year we have some favorite student spots, but I haven't been here long enough after classes let out to know where the good non-student places are."

"Student is great. I'll be able to put a memory to your letters. It's good to be able to see what it actually looks like here. I admit I had a bit more 'mad scientist' in mind when you talked about your lab - bubbling beakers and pickled body parts complete with those big van de gogh generators."

He looked around with a critical scowl on his face. "Definitely need more lightning here for the proper ambiance. A big row of glass jars with unidentifiable body parts floating inside should be there in front of the window. Some dark opera playing. A hunchback assistant with a lisp to top it off. Yup," he said with clear satisfaction, "that's exactly what you need in here."

Cassie was giggling as Jon gave his opinion of the lab and Jon patted himself on the back. '_Got her mind off the awkward._'

He walked over to the door and opened it for her, hunching over and lisping as hard as he could.

"Afther you, mithtreth. Igor ith your faithful thervanth."

That was enough to pull full peals of laughter from Cassie and Jon grinned to the other people in the hallway as they walked out.

* * *

Jon and Cassie grabbed an outdoor table at a cafe and were soon eating with crowds of other college employees enjoying the beautiful May day. Their conversation rolled on well through the lunch hour and eventually they were mostly alone on the patio.

Jon leaned in.

"So, how hard do you think it's going to be to get a fast test for this?"

Cassie pursed her lips for a moment, considering.

"I've been thinking about it, and I think it's actually pretty simple. We don't need to compare full genomes. Heck, we don't need to compare genomes at all. We just need to look for some of the non- …" She looked around and lowered her voice further. "Well, there are chunks of the DNA from the … people from … out of country that are distinct from here on, er, in country. It's minor stuff in the grand scheme of things, but the populations have been separated for -"

She paused and looked at Jon with a grin. Jon couldn't help but smile back at her, the grin infectious.

"Sorry, I was about to go jumping into the science-y stuff. Mom mentioned how much you, er, _he_ always hated it."

Jon leaned in and covered her hand with his own as he whispered, "Don't tell anyone, but I don't mind it, really. The scientist types have bad timing - they ramble on about it when bullets or explosions are a threat. Or, they ramble in a meeting. I really do hate meetings.

"But, I - and don't you ever let this leak - and Jack actually do like science-y type stuff."

He leaned back. "Just not at the wrong time."

'_Hmmm, she looks a little flushed. I wonder if we've been here in the sun too long. I've kept her away from work too._'

"So, I need to let you get back to work, but what can we do to quickly test for the differences in these people's DNA?"

It took her a moment to gather her thoughts again. "Well, the basic polymerase chain reactions can be seen in just a couple hours if you have the gel all ready to go. You have to know exactly what you're testing for, but as long as that is set up, it just takes a cotton swab in the mouth and then a few hours later you'll know."

"Really? That's all? Doctor … er, well our base doctor made it sound like it took days to do."

Cassie shrugged. "He's probably not a geneticist. Genetics is a very specialized area of medicine. For a full DNA breakdown, it does take a couple days, but we don't need to do a full genetic analysis and comparison for this."

"Cassie, I could kiss you for this! This is better than I had hoped."

She was absolutely adorable when she blushed like that.

"Let's get you back to work so you don't get in trouble, and I'll start working on a flight back to the Springs."

Cassie's smile disappeared and she bit her lip with a little frown.

"Do you have to leave so soon? You just got here."

Jon shrugged. Staying for a few days was an attractive idea, but he had to get started clearing up this mess back at base.

"Wish I could. I really do, but we need to start clearing people as soon as possible."

"Well, how about staying tonight, at least? I can write up some notes for likely areas of the DNA to test and the way to do it. That should save you some time, and if you don't have a geneticist there, it's possible no one will know what to test for, and you'd just need to come back anyway."

Jon rolled it around in his mind. Staying for another day wouldn't be a problem, really, and if she could get it written up and stuff, it might wind up saving time.

And, yeah, spending another day would be nice. He enjoyed just being able to talk and be with Cassie. He was able to be himself around her in a way that he couldn't be around anyone else except his old team. For everyone else in the world, he was a young guy with a classified past - he had to avoid talking about his past, and …

"All right. You've twisted my arm. I'd love to stay."

Jon couldn't help but smile as her face lit up. He liked to see her smile. She'd had a rough life in a lot of ways, and she deserved all the happiness in the world.

"Great! You can crash at my place! Nellie went back to her family for the summer, so her room is empty, or we have a really big, really comfy sofa - it takes up almost the entire living room, but it's worth it."

Jon stood up and slid some bills under their cups.

"All right. It's settled. I've got a couple things to do today, so we'll meet after work and we'll grab some dinner."

Cassie came around and looped her arm around his elbow as they began walking back. "I don't think it will take very long to write up notes sufficient for a non-geneticist doctor to know exactly what to do. I'll type up a few alternate possibilities just in case the areas of the genome I think are good candidates aren't useable."

"Do me a favor and try to make it sound like you haven't seen the actual report - they'd be a bit upset if they knew I took that with me."

Cassie looked up at him with an amused expression.

"You bent the rules? Shocker."

Jon felt her squeeze his arm.

"Don't worry. I won't breathe a word. Can you leave it with me? I'll have down time to work on it some."

"Not a problem. No one else can see it, though - there are all sorts of no-no words in there."

Cassie leaned her head against his shoulder and hugged his arm as they stood at a crosswalk, waiting for the light to change. "Jon, I am a walking, talking no-no word. I'll keep the report safe."

Jon chuckled. "I know. Me too. Me too."

Maybe it was a sad thought to be so very unique that you couldn't share yourself with the people around you, but he wasn't feeling at all sad at the moment.

'_Huh. Of course I'm feeling good. It's a beautiful day. A problem got solved. I've even got a pretty woman on my arm._'

The last part of that made Jon smile.

'_Not exactly the typical reason for a guy and girl to be walking around arm in arm, but it's still nice._'

He listened to Cassie's voice, obviously cheerful, as they continued walking. It sounded like she was having a good time as well. Good. That was the most important thing.

* * *

It took Cassie a while to stop dreamily staring off into space.

Jon.

He was so perfect in every way - she could talk with him, he made her laugh, he was gorgeous, he was smart, and he was one of the bravest people in the galaxy.

She could still feel his arm as she had held onto it on their walk back. She had felt like she was floating!

Eventually she had gotten her attention back onto the report Jon had left with her, and after that it quickly consumed her attention.

Cassie poured over the report, both cursing its brevity and loving every detail she could glean from its pages. Half of it was dedicated to a gland in the brain that served as a suicide switch, an extremely effective one, too. She wasn't so naive to be shocked that spies would have such a thing, but it still unnerved her somewhat to think about being ready to commit suicide at the drop of a hat.

That part was certainly gruesome enough to catch her attention, but it was the topic of the alien's modified DNA that fascinated her. Successfully splicing in massive chunks of DNA from one organism to another was significantly beyond Earth's current ability, but it wasn't so far ahead as the Asgard which was anywhere between two and twenty thousand years ahead of Earth depending on people's optimism about humans.

The fact that Sam was able to grasp the basics of Ancient and Asgard technology was a testament to Sam's brilliance. Entire teams of scientists at Area 51 had worked on goa'uld devices for years without getting anywhere.

But this! She hadn't told Jon, but she was ignoring all her regular work projects entirely for now. _This_ was some insight into some genetic abilities that weren't so far beyond Earth's capabilities that they'd need to build a thousand iterations of tools to build tools to do it.

She looked at the short snippets of description in the reports - hints that could give clues to genetic techniques to do all sorts of amazing things. Heal genetic diseases and mutations. Remove a lot of cancers.

And make a body grow suicide triggers.

She had a lot more direct knowledge about the possible evils that could come from genetic tampering.

The thought cooled her excitement some.

She settled down to start typing up the notes on how to run tests for the presence of the alien DNA. It was pretty straightforward, but since she only had a relatively high level summary to work on, she wasn't certain which check would have the expected differences show up.

The easiest one to check would be the addition that the doctors suspected were for the toxin glands. She agreed with them on that. However it occurred to her that not all spies would have the gland, so she needed other places to check as well.

False positives would also be a problem if the test weren't sufficiently -

"Hey girl! I didn't think you'd be back!"

Cassie's concentration had kept her from hearing the lab door open, and she straightened with a start. She closed the report as she spun around.

"Oh! You startled me!"

The visitor sashayed across the room toward her, and Cassie felt a burst of jealousy.

'_Wish I could walk in heels like that!_'

Vanessa Richards was tall, five years older, and somehow managed to hit the perfect balance between thin and voluptuous. Cassie envied almost everything about her, from her long legs, her style, her natural blonde hair, her natural wavy hair that seemed to always be fresh from a photo shoot, the perfect 'supermodel' smile, her … Gah!

The worst part was that Vanessa was also really pleasant too. Cassie hated her in some ways, but she was so … so damn nice that she felt bad about it. She heard Vanessa even did volunteer work for a half dozen causes. She'd been friendly to Cassied from the beginning, though Cassie had been too intimidated to reciprocate.

"Yeah, I can imagine your thoughts would be elsewhere. So," she pulled up a chair and sat down next to Cassie, "who was the guy? You never mentioned you had a boyfriend, and if I had a guy like that I would totally be showing him off."

Cassie winced inside. Vanessa also had strings of guys at her beck and call.

"Not a boyfriend. We've been friends since we were kids. He's … well, he used to be in the military, but now he's on the private side of things. We haven't seen each other for almost a year and he was traveling through the area and decided to stop by."

It was the truth, or close enough for the world that she and Jon inhabited, but she almost wished she had lied about it - Vanessa's eyes had lit up.

"So, he's like, a big brother sort of thing, not an item?"

'_Shit._'

Cassie knew she had a huge crush on Jon. Hell, she was pretty sure it was more than a crush. She was pretty sure she was head over heals in love with Jon in spite of the impossibility of them. It was impossible, but that didn't mean she wanted to see Jon hook up with ...

"Not exactly an item, I guess. Yeah, we've known each other for years, but we've never actually been serious."

"You," Vanessa said with a finger - perfectly manicured, Cassie grumpily noticed - "are way too wrapped up in work or something if you came back from lunch with him still able to walk. What's his name?"

"Jon. I'd introduce you, but he's leaving again."

Cassie felt a burst of guilty pleasure at Vanessa's little frown of disappointment. She knew she shouldn't be possessive about Jon - he wasn't hers at all and probably never would be in spite of her fantasies to the contrary.

"Oh too bad. He was pretty yummy. If you aren't using him, I can think of a few things I'd like him to do."

Vanessa paused for a second and Cassie wondered if she'd be able to use her latent telekinetic powers to somehow give the woman a heart attack.

"You might want to go talk with people. I heard from three different people that you spent lunch screwing the hell out of the cutest guy on the planet. I only caught a glimpse as you two headed out, and I have to agree with the cute part. Too bad about the screwing part."

She grinned conspiratorially at Cassie and Cassie had visions of punching that perfect face.

"I'll do that," she gritted her teeth. "Wouldn't want rumors to start, I guess."

Vanessa laughed and Cassied clenched her fists. Perfect laugh, too. The bitch.

"I wouldn't mind some rumors starting about me and him. I'd make sure they were true, too. Oh well, I'll let you get back to work - I just came in to congratulate you. Too bad."

Vanessa walked back out of the room, tall red heels clicking across the floor and Cassie resisted throwing something after her. The door closed and she let out a muffled scream.

A pen went flying off the bench and stabbed into the door.

Cassie slammed her hands down on the keyboard and forced back tears. She wasn't sure why she was so upset - Vanessa hadn't said anything nasty and probably wouldn't ever meet Jon - certainly not if _she_ had anything to say about it.

But, still! If Vanessa ever did meet Jon, she would certainly have a crazy night of passion with the guy Cassie was in love with! Ahhh!

'_Skanky, slut ho bitch whore._'

Perhaps, worst of all was that Vanessa wasn't a nasty person. Cassie was even feeling bad about hating the woman. She hadn't done anything!

"Cassie, you're a miserable piece of mess. Not even a hot mess. Just a mess."

She noticed the mess her keyboard temper tantrum had made of the document on the computer, and she started fixing the report.

By four o'clock she had put it together pretty well, and printed it off for Jon. She had calmed down, but was only feeling marginally better. It was a bit earlier than her normal quitting time, but she had done about all she could bring herself to do.

She had made a couple trips out around the building and answered enough questions that the rumors would probably get straightened out. Vanessa hadn't been joking about the rumors - everyone had assumed that flowers and a two and a half hour lunch with Jon meant they had spent it 'banging him senseless' as a particularly obnoxious doctor had suggested.

She gathered up her purse and reports, feeling morose. No, she and Jon weren't _banging_, and probably never would be _banging_, even though she would love to spend all night _banging_, but instead would be sleeping, _alone_, a few feet away from him! Gah! Life sucked sometimes.

She walked out the front and sat down on one of the benches in front of the center and enjoyed the late afternoon weather. The early-bird workers were leaving and several waved to her as they continue off to home.

The sun and warmth eased her mood and she closed her eyes, listening to the birds and noise of the medical center bustling in the distance.

"You look nicely relaxed."

Vanessa's voice broke her reverie, and Cassie held in a sigh. She had gotten over the irrational hatred - it was mostly just her own frustration. The inferiority she felt around the beautiful woman had just been a lightning rod.

"Wrapped up projects and couldn't bring myself to start another one."

She opened her eyes. Vanessa had discarded the white lab coat and now she made the designer skirt and blouse look like they deserved to be on a runway somewhere. For all Cassie knew, maybe they were straight from a runway.

"Feel like getting something to eat?"

Cassie could feel a look of surprise settle on her. She and Vanessa had occasionally shared meals with groups, but the woman had never invited her before.

"Um … actually -"

Cassie's mind whirled, trying to come up with an excuse.

"Actually, I'm hoping she's still coming to dinner with me."

Her heart twisted. It jumped to hear Jon's voice, but Vanessa was here and she just _knew_ Vanessa was going to now wind up with Jon in her bed. The woman was perfect.

Vanessa turned in surprise at Jon's voice. Cassie was startled a little - somehow the man had managed to walk up without either of them noticing - but she wasn't truly surprised considering what she knew of Jon's history.

Jon held out his hand to Vanessa, "I'm sorry to interrupt. I'm Jon. Jon O'Neill."

Cassie stood up. Of course he was introducing himself to _her_. Because … of course he was!

"No apology necessary. I'm Vanessa Richards. I saw you briefly, earlier, and it's very nice to get to meet you."

Cassie couldn't help but speak up. "Jon and I had plans already. I'm sorry, Vanessa. I'd love to take a rain check on that."

"Oh, quite all right," Cassie watched in despair as Vanessa flipped her mane of blonde locks around to focus on Jon again, this time with a killer smile. "Are you going to be around long?"

"I'm afraid not. I'm leaving tomorrow morning, back to base. We're," he gestured to Cassie, "gonna grab some dinner and catch up on stuff. It's been a while since we've seen each other."

"That sounds really nice," Vanessa replied. "Well, if you ever make it back to the area and have a few days, give me a call - I'll show you around." She handed Jon a card that already had a number scribbled on the back.

Cassie wasn't sure quite how she felt. Jon wasn't going to wind up in Vanessa's bed tonight, at least - yay - but he certainly had an open invitation now and there was no way any guy would turn down a woman like Vanessa.

"Thanks, I'll keep it in mind." Jon gave her a smile and Vanessa returned it with a million megawatt smile of her own as she walked off.

Cassie closed her eyes for a moment. That wasn't as bad as it could have been, but still - she'd just watched her crush get invited by a woman she couldn't even begin to compete with. Jon was only a little older than her, biologically speaking, but he was close to fifty in experience, and she was only nineteen.

She knew, deep down, that it was impossible that he'd be interested in her, but seeing the smooth confidence in Vanessa who was older hammered it home in a way Cassie couldn't ignore. Jon wouldn't be interested in a nineteen year old, especially not when gorgeous, _blond_, mature women were throwing themselves at him.

"Ready to go? I did a bit of research and found a nice place that has some private balconies. We can talk without worrying about listening ears."

She gave him a smile, but her heart wasn't in it.

"Sounds great, but that sounds like a pretty nice place. I'd want to change before going. That sounds like too much trouble."

Jon looked at her with a puzzled look on his face. "But you look great!"

Cassie checked herself critically. Nice enough skirt and shirt. She was new at the position and still dressing up a bit. She guessed it would be ok. It wasn't like it was actually a date.

He looked as hot as always - a silky blue polo shirt and slacks might have looked nice on other people, but she thought it was almost sinfully attractive on him with his corded forearms and cut body. It almost depressed her - right there in front of her but a million miles away at the same time.

"All right, it does sound nice. I guess I'll listen to you guys for once and just not worry about it."

"Great! There, you see! You look great in anything."

She let a little laugh out and shook her head.

'_Men are so clueless._'

"No, you men are just too clueless to realize."

"Well, this clueless guy is still insisting you come on out to a nice dinner. I don't get many chances to eat anywhere but the base. If it's not at the base, it's MREs."

Cassie forced herself to smile. It would be a good time. She'd survive.

He took her arm and she reveled in the feel.

But damn - it was having a feast right in front of you while starving, and not being able to eat anything.

* * *

Cassie woke up to her alarm going off. In spite of the night out, it was a work day.

She sighed and rolled over, burying her face in the pillow. Last night had been torture, pleasant torture, but torture. Jon had been a perfect gentleman, opening doors and holding her chair. They'd talked shop for an hour while drinking and munching on appetizers, but after their dinner had come, talk had moved to more casual and personal topics. She knew it was a bad idea, but she fell more in love with him than before - he understood the difficulties of having a secret past and had shared some of his own struggles.

She'd even admitted that she hadn't seriously tried a boyfriend. Partly it was because she had a crush on Jon, though she didn't mention that. Instead she'd talked about how she had trouble being interested in a person with whom she couldn't share her whole life. It made it hard to even start with someone if you had to tell them lies on that first date. It had hit her that she was honestly sharing her whole life with Jon, and she'd shut up after that.

She slowly pulled herself out of bed with the smell of coffee in the air. She considered just walking out and wrapping him up like she had back when she had visited him in DC, but a glimpse in the mirror nixed that idea. She sighed and quickly began brushing her hair. That would have to do, because something was starting to smell really good.

"Good morning, Sunshine."

She hadn't heard anything, but he had coffee ready and a plate of fruit sliced up.

"Morning. Only you morning people add on that 'good' part."

Jon chuckled. "Technically I was never in the military, but almost thirty years of remembering being in the military is apparently enough to get me up early anyway. I've got some breakfast and coffee ready. I've got to catch a flight at nine, so I've got to get going."

"Thanks for breakfast. You didn't have to do that."

"Hey, I like being able to do stuff like this. I don't get chances to do this out at the Alpha site."

She walked over to him and wrapped her arms around him. Damn, but she might cry here. She didn't know why this was so hard.

She felt him wrap his arms around her, and she reveled in the feeling even as it hurt.

"Hey, don't worry kiddo. I'm going to be wrapping up my time there in a few more months, and I'll be back. It's nice and safe out there compared to being on SG-1, so you don't even need to worry about me getting hurt. Got it Cassie?"

She nodded against his chest. She did, but that wasn't why she was hugging him. And he was still treating her like a kid, and it just served as a reminder that her crush was all it would ever be.

She pulled back and looked up at him with a tremulous smile.

"Sorry. I'm not good at mornings. Saying goodbye around noon would get you better results."

Jon laughed and grabbed up the reports. "Got it. I'll try to schedule my arrivals and departures for later in the day."

She popped a banana chunk into her mouth. "Breakfast makes it worth it, though. You can stay over as long as you keep making me breakfast."

He picked his duffel bag up from next to the front door and stepped out.

"It's a deal. Hopefully I'll come to visit in a few months. Take care of yourself, Cassie."

An unbidden thought of Vanessa popped to Cassie's mind. She wondered if Vanessa was part of the attraction to come back to visit. She pushed the thought aside.

"You too Jon. Be safe."

He waved as he left the townhouse and walked down the street to where he had his rental car parked.

Cassie sighed again as she closed the door.

"Come on girl. Time to get over your little crush. You're just tormenting yourself."

She stepped over to the sofa and picked up the blankets Jon had refolded. A few pieces of pocket trash were still on the little end table - all that was left of Jon's visit.

She grabbed them up - a receipt maybe, a gum wrapper, and a crumpled piece of card stock. She dropped them in the trash, just like she had to drop her own crush.

The crumpled card stock bounced on the rim and fell to the floor. Cassie picked it back up and was about to toss it when a bit of writing caught her attention.

She unfolded the crushed paper and stared in shock. Vanessa's card lay wadded up and discarded in her hand.

* * *

**A/N: Cassie's section of this sort of took off. She was feeling a bit lonely and more than a bit intimidated by both the job and Vanessa, and it got her down about Jon too. I've overheard a couple really rough roastings of a new woman to an event from other women, and as far as I could tell it was just because the new woman was pretty, successful, and attracting a lot of attention. I tried to channel that for Cassie's reaction when she thought of Vanessa swooping in to get Jon. Jealousy - the green-eyed monster!**


	28. Dead Body

**I haven't had nearly as much time as usual to work on my story, so this one is a bit short. It's also ends at a clean breaking point, and the next group of scenes isn't done yet. I hope you all still enjoy. Jon opens up a little. But just a little.**

* * *

**May 28th, 2010. Alpha Site**

Jon swore vehemently under his breath at the corpse lying before him. This was the second infiltrator they had found thanks to Cassie's idea, and just like all the other mystery aliens, this one too had died. They had tried to capture this one alive, passing in a knockout gas while the woman slept in her bed, but it hadn't done any good.

They had opened her door and even managed to begin injecting the full anesthesia before the woman had woken up, but at that point it was all over - a short five seconds of struggling before she suddenly relaxed and began the familiar twitching.

"Damn it!"

He turned to Dr. Fitz who was giving orders to the orderlies lifting the body onto the cart.

"Doc! Why the hell was she awake? You said that would put her deep asleep, enough that she wouldn't even feel the shot!"

"Alien, remember, alien! They obviously react differently to fentanyl compounds than humans."

Jon poked the man in the chest, "And you never thought of that? You said there wasn't a chance she would be able to feel the needle."

"Alien! You trigger-happy idiot. How was I supposed to know how their bodies treat chemicals?"

"Doctor. Fitz. The doctor. You're supposed to be the one to figure this stuff out. You're supposed to be a doctor, not some hack."

"Watch it, young man. You're nothing more than the muscle here, don't poke your nose in where you don't comprehend."

Jon clenched down hard on the sudden rage flooding through him.

'_Scientists! Damn all scientists to-_'

Tex suddenly appeared in front of his face, blocking his view of the doctor.

"Careful Jon, don't kill him. He ain't worth it, son."

Tex's voice slowly cut through Jon's struggle between rage and control and Jon spun, marching out of the room. He could hear the footsteps he recognized as Tex's following behind but while he wasn't about to hurt the doctor any more he wasn't quite ready to talk.

Two hallways later he reached his door and kicked at the metal door.

_Krangch._

The door buckled inward enough that the lock lost hold and it creaked open. Another kick slammed it back into the wall to rebound at Jon, but his fist met it, leaving another dent in the abused metal.

Jon strode across his small room and leaned up against the wall opposite the door, breathing hard.

'_Damn it! That was our last chance to catch someone. I go to all the trouble of getting a key to check everyone in the base, and all for nothing because of stupid, pig-headed, unimaginative moron of a doctor to blow it._'

Jon thumped his head against the wall.

It wasn't really the doctor, though. He had nearly eight years of dealing with aliens and the differences that could so easily catch one by surprise. He should have thought of that. He knew the Jaffa had a bunch of differences even without their symbiotes, reacted to all sorts of drugs differently. He pushed back off the wall and grabbed a chair before collapsing into it.

Tex was there leaning against the door frame, idly inspecting the door.

Jon winced in embarrassment at the bent metal door. Losing his cool? After this many years of experience and control?

"Gonna let me know what that was about, pardner?"

Jon gave a sigh.

"I should have thought of the possibility that the target wouldn't have reacted normally to the gas. There should have been some other plan. It was my fault. We blew our last chance at getting a live infiltrator because of me."

"You were in charge of this operation?"

Jon looked up at Tex in irritation.

"No, I was only point. But I'm the one with -"

Tex overrode Jon. "And you're a scientist with fancy degrees in alien biology?"

"I know more about aliens than anyone -"

Tex hammered his voice over Jon's again. "You knew these aliens?"

Jon gave up and waved his hands in irritation.

"Fine, it's not entirely on me. But," he pointed his finger at Tex, "I do have more experience with aliens and their potential differences than anyone else on the base. It should have occurred to me that the knockout gas wouldn't work on the alien."

Tex gave him a puzzled look. "Jon, those sorts of things are for the operation planners to come up with. Doc Fitz is gonna be raked over the coals for this. And I -" Jon began to object but Tex raised his voice, "- I don't have any real alien experience and I should have gone to my expert for advice."

"No, you aren't at fault here, Tex! I knew about the plan and it didn't occur to me … that …"

Jon plopped into a chair in defeat. He wanted to object and shout that it was his fault! Tex had pointed out that it wasn't, but …

'_But damn it all, I still should have known!_'

It wouldn't do any good to argue about it, though Jon still knew deep down that it was his fault. Somehow.

He was just so used to being in command.

"Tex, I'm sorry. I've … Let me tell you something. You've been operating on less than full information and it just reared up and bit us all in the ass."

Jon closed his eyes. He wouldn't give everything, but he could give something.

"I don't want to go into the details, and they're really, really classified so keep this under that ten gallon hat of yours."

Tex looked out into the hallway both ways and then came in and leaned against Jon's desk.

"You got it."

"I've actually been on the Stargate program for seven years."

He could see the arithmetic going in Tex's head and the look of puzzlement that quickly formed.

"Biologically I'm only twenty years old. My resume and official records I gave to Blackbriar list me as twenty four, but biologically I'm only twenty. Yes, you guys hired me when,biologically speaking, I was only eighteen years old. I had a run-in with some alien technology that knocked more than a few years off me. That's one of the reasons I insisted the 'don't touch' principle be so strongly emphasized in our briefings for incoming people."

He had worked out this story as a partial explanation when it had been apparent he was going back into the Stargate world. He sure as hell didn't want people knowing he was just a clone, and a clone of General O'Neill as well - that was classified at some extremely high levels, and for very good reason.

"The details I can't - won't - get into, but I nearly died. If it weren't for then Colonel O'Neill I'd be dead. As it was, I couldn't exactly rejoin society and I couldn't continue in the Stargate program, so they set me up with the cover that I used to join Blackbriar."

Tex's eyes were widened, but otherwise his face was expressionless.

"I was active, really, really active. At the point I had to leave, there were only a handful of people that had the experience with aliens that I had. I really should have thought of it - aliens very often don't react to drugs the way humans do.

"I realize that it wasn't my fault," he waved placatingly at Tex, "but I hadn't been sharing everything with you guys, and because of that I didn't give my full support to the mission. I don't know for sure if it would have occurred to me to question the effectiveness of the gas, but I should have been helping enough that I was at least in the position to be when decisions were being made."

Tex spent long seconds in thought, but Jon wasn't twitching - Tex always thought carefully about things.

"How many years did you have taken off?"

Jon frowned. _That_ was the question he finally had?

"Won't say exactly, but it was well over a decade, and … well, let's just say I'm not the same person I was."

Tex nodded. "Huh. You're just nineteen, or at least that's what your body is aged? Well, don't that just beat all. Sounds sort of nice, in some ways, but I suspect it hasn't been as nice as a person might imagine. General O'Neill doesn't have a nephew, either, I'd bet. Your familiarity with command makes more sense now too."

Tex paused again for a long moment and then nodded, having apparently come to a decision.

"All right. I'll make sure you're included in anything that even remotely touches on aliens or other planets. We'll give your base security duties to someone else. Trisha did well while you were out on '_vacation_'."

Tex gave a wry smile. Three days of vacation? Coming back with a solution to finding hidden aliens?

"You're head of security for all trips through the Stargate. They've been picking up the number of trips, and it should probably have a full-time head to run it."

Jon nodded. "The thought had crossed my mind, but I'm not sure I'm the one you want to put in that position."

Tex pursed his lips. "You've got the experience and you've certainly proved the … damn."

Jon raised his eyebrows.

"I'm beginning to see at least a little of the troubles you might have been facing. According to your records, you're still over a month shy of even twenty-five. Two years experience with the company and four years experience with the military. Putting you in the position is ludicrous when you look at it like that."

Jon shrugged. "Yup. That's certainly been a part of the headaches."

Tex shook his head. "All right. I can't make you the head of Stargate security, but I'm still going to make that position - it's busy enough that we do need the position. I'll get someone to fill it and suggest _very_ strongly that they listen to you and include you in planning. Officially, you'll be just another person on the protective details going through the Gate."

"Works for me. I wasn't looking forward to getting bumped out of doing Gate trips when _this_ happened. I'd still like to be active, but … not if it's going to endanger missions. I like your solution." Jon gestured to himself. "Staying active is one of the few things that have turned out well about this. That, and my knees don't hurt now."

Tex smiled. "Welp, I guess you ought to get something out of this fubar'd situation. I'll keep you active. Was this" Tex gestured to Jon's body, "something Ancient? You certainly were death on touching anything Ancient."

Jon shook his head. "Asgard. Ancient stuff is worse."

Tex's face smiled a little, taking Jon's statement as a joke. Jon stared back with a sour look.

Tex slowly shifted from humor to skepticism and then to a wince as Jon made it clear there wasn't a joke.

He sighed.

"You did tell me. Weirdness."

Jon smirked a little.

"You remember Daniel Jackson from a few months ago?"

Tex nodded affirmatively.

"Yeah, let's just say he's really bad at staying dead."

Jon resisted giggling as Tex's expression fluctuated between skeptical, alarmed, amused, and back to skeptical.


	29. Ups and Downs

**Blegh. I'm so tired that I can't even write properly. Stayed up way too late last night and now I'm thinking that was a bad idea. Don't write while you're mostly asleep. Don't edit while you're exhausted. In other words, don't do what I do.**

* * *

**June 29th, 2010, P4X-217**

"Dead or alive, you're still coming with us. Why exactly should we let you live?"

"Because all life is precious?"

The three smugglers holding zats and guns on him looked confused.

"You're saying - ? How much are you willing to pay us for your _precious_ life?"

The smaller man asked this. Jon was pretty sure he was just a body to hold a weapon in this group. The other two were in charge.

"I have the blu-ray of the Simpson."

"What is this weapon, this 'blue ray'?"

"Well, it's back at the Alpha base. If you let me head back there to pick it up, I'll show you."

The three smugglers reacted predictably and Jon turned his head with the blow, but it still laid him out on the floor with stars exploding in his eyes. The largest smuggler pulled his rifle back and aimed it at Jon again.

'_Of course it would be the biggest guy who beats on me. They should give the little shrimps a chance do the beatings - equal opportu-_'

His favorite female smuggler, Miss Tats, walked around in front of him. Her boot came flashing in and hit his stomach. Jon's air exploded out as he and the chair skidded back across the floor.

"That's more like it," Jon said after he regained his breath. "Equal opportunity workplace."

"This fool has nothing, Ya'nay. Let's take him and leave the evidence here for his people to find."

Jon had been unpleasantly surprised to find out that the largest of the smugglers looked like an ape, but was much more clever than his face suggested. He wasn't entirely sure, but he suspected he and Ya'nay, Miss Tats, were an item.

"What? You aren't gonna keep me for yourself? Ya'nay, darling, I thought we had something special."

Ape Boy aimed a kick at Jon's face, but he tucked his head, turning it into a glancing blow on the top of his head.

'_Yup, definitely something going on between those two._'

Even the glancing blow, though, was enough to take a few seconds to re-gather his wits.

"... than Netan will. Netan's on his way out, and as long as we have their support, when Netan falls, we'll be the ones ready to pick up the pieces. We'll stick with the plan, so shut up and get the supplies."

Jon recognized the name of the current leader of the Lucian Alliance and wasn't sure if he was happy or sad that the man was in trouble. On one hand, anything that was keeping Netan distracted from the conflict with Earth was good, but on the other hand Jon didn't like the skullduggery going on. Better the devil you know, in Jon's opinion.

'_Keep them busy for another five minutes Jon. We're getting close._'

The words sounded in Jon's ear and he wracked his brain for a way to slow them down that didn't involve getting beaten. That was getting old.

He and his team were on planet running a rescue op. Alpha Team 3 had been escorting a group of scientists to examine the ruins. It hadn't been an advanced civilization and didn't have any signs of activity. Should have been a piece of cake, but Jon had insisted on a higher frequency check-up schedule, and when they'd not responded to hails, had gone in with his Alpha Team 1.

The trackers he had also added to everyone's gear had worked, and they'd followed their signal easily. Right to where they'd found the entire group, security and scientists, unconscious and guarded by a dozen Lucian Alliance thugs plus his favorite tatted girl.

Diversion and rescue had been a success except for Jon who'd taken the rear and caught a zat shot. His team had properly taken the unconscious people to the Stargate before returning for him.

Five more minutes.

"Hey guys, all joking aside, whoever your allies are - and I'm sure they're great - they aren't going to stand up to Earth if you keep causing trouble. Right now we're busy with the Ori, but we're kicking their butt. Once we get done with them, you aren't going to be more than a bump for Earth to roll over. Earth really doesn't want to be mixed up in your little internal squabbles - let me go, and you guys can walk away just fine."

Theoretically, he could try to be serious. He'd never tried that before. Maybe it would work. The no-account thug looked nervous at this. The other two? Sigh. Less impressed. Ok, scratch 'serious' off of possible techniques.

Miss Tats came over and crouched at his face. With arms and legs attached to a wooden chair, he couldn't do much more than turn his head to look up at her.

She pulled out a knife and placed its tip right behind his ear.

'_Crap. So much for serious. I'll take the beatings over getting my brain spiked._'

"But ya' know what? Screw Earth. I've always had a thing for tattoos and knives. Maybe I could join you! Dump the ugly guy there and we'll rule the universe. You and me, gorgeous, whaddya say?"

The smaller goon snorted in amusement and Jon could hear the big guy walking up and braced himself for a boot in the back.

Ya'nay held up her hand and smiled.

"So, you think your little dirtball is going to roll right over us, huh? You've got no idea who you're dealing with. We're going to hit you so hard and fast that by the time you know anything's happening, it'll already be over.

"And your smart mouth? Well we don't need to beat anything out of you, really. That's just for fun. By the time you're done, you'll have told everything you know and you'll wish it had been done with a beating. I was considering killing you - live specimens are marginally preferable, but only barely. But, once we get you back to Cheta, you'll wish I had killed you clean.

"I'm going to watch every minute, and love every scream."

'_Jokes don't work, serious doesn't work. What is it with these people?!_'

"Uh huh. Ba'al did that thing way better than the Lucian Alliance could ever dream. I handled Ba'al's worst and came out whistling. You bunch of losers couldn't get so much as my pancake recipe out of me. Come on, stop playing around. You're dealing with the big boys now. Wise up and let me go."

That wasn't even remotely true, but they didn't have to know that.

A flash of irritation crossed her tattooed face.

"Watch it boy. I haven't played with someone for a while. I might decide to have some fun before I turn you over."

"Ooo, kinky! I've got a few things you've never seen before. Ugly Boy could watch and maybe learn something."

Jon was expecting a kick, but instead the big man laughed.

"Oh I will watch, little boy. I love watching her work."

Then the kick came.

It crunched through the wooden slats of the back of the chair and hit Jon in the upper back, sending a red bolt of pain through his body, but the chair had provided at least a little protection. Jon held in his groan.

"Ok, get this joke back to the ship and take off. It's not the whole group, but he'll do. Everything else is still set up just fine. It'll work."

Ya'nay stood up, giving out orders to the other two.

The two men yanked Jon upright and began to drag him across the floor toward the tel'tak starting up next to the warehouse they'd used to hold the captives.

'_Just another minute,_' Jon thought. '_I just needed one more minute!_'

He threw himself to the side as hard as he could, yanking himself and his chair out of their grasps and dropping painfully to the ground.

He earned a few kicks for that, using up a few more seconds before they reached for him again. The chair had received enough abuse that it had considerable wiggle room as it began to break apart and Jon twisted his body around enough to sink his teeth into the smaller goon's hand.

"Yeeaaoooww!"

Jon bit down as hard as he could, trying to hang on as the man tried to yank away.

The larger man swung a fist that snapped Jon's head back, freeing the smuggler from Jon's bite.

Jon jerked himself around, trying to dodge the kicks the two of them rained down on him. The chair finally broke apart enough for him to lunge away, but only for a moment before the two smugglers leaped on top of him, crushing him down between their weight and his still partially hampered limbs.

"You little pisser! I'm gonna rip your eyes -"

Zaaaap!

Jon felt the jolt of electricity hit and darkness came over him too quickly for a thought to register.

* * *

"Take a look at this!"

Jon whirled to see Daniel reaching for large, glowing symbol that would blow everything to pieces.

He tried to yell but his voice caught in his throat.

Daniel's hand came down on the big red button and the cave began to quake. Jon took off running toward his friend as a huge chunk of rock began to fall toward the archaeologist.

His feet slipped on the dust as he ran. He reached down with his hands to pull himself along. It was too slow!

"Looks like the rocks say you're a poopy head! Ha ha! Jack is a poopy head!"

"Shut up," Jon yelled over the roaring temple. A huge stone ball was rolling behind him, threatening to crush him.

"Over here, sir!"

Jon turned toward Cassie as she stepped out of a room, holding a little ebola dog.

The dog jumped out and began chasing him as he ran away, trying to get away from the sickness.

"Jon."

"Jon!"

Cassie kept calling him while Ba'al began laughing in the background.

Jon groaned.

"Jon. You're safe. Jon. Wake up, Jon"

The voices slowly merged into one he knew he recognized, but couldn't put with a name.

He opened his eyes and quickly closed them again as the lights seemed to burn him.

"Just a second."

Trisha. That was the voice.

The lights dropped in intensity and Jon pushed his eyes open.

"Doc called me ... ago and said you were … your coma. Thought I would …."

Jon couldn't concentrate on her words long enough to understand, and he was so tired.

He forced his eyes open again to see Trisha talking.

"... two zat blasts almost killed you. Fortunately … from enough of the shock that you survived. Barely."

He tried to talk but his mouth was glued together.

He missed her movement, but a straw poked between his lips and the tiny trickle of water suddenly filled his mouth with ecstasy. He'd never had water that good!

"Wha hap?"

"We got you back, but the tattooed bitch had zapped the whole pile of you ... leave you and the other two."

Jon could catch more of what she was saying, but was still losing bits and pieces. His memory was starting to work again, though.

"Ok?"

"Everyone is fine. They were knocked out with a gas, but they all recovered fine. You're ... zatted, and it was touch-and-go for a while, but you stuck with us."

"Goo."

Jon felt darkness begin to take him again.

The next time he woke up, he was feeling much better, though his mouth was filled with cotton. No nurses seemed to be around, but there was a water and straw by his bed. His arms felt like they weighed a hundred pounds and were stiff as wood, but he managed to bring the cup over and get a sip of water.

Ahhh…. Once again the delightful feeling flowed through his mouth and he savored the luxury.

He slowly began working his hands and arms, then his legs, bringing them back under control. As he was sitting up, an orderly came in.

"Oh! You're awake!"

Jon glared at her. He sure as hell wasn't sleepwalking, and her voice seemed to pierce his ears.

"Yeah. How long … I been out?"

His voice wasn't behaving very well and he grimaced as his unused throat protested the abuse.

"Twelve hours. Now, take it easy and I'll check your vitals."

"Just get me my team. I want to know what happened, and … I have stuff to tell them."

"Don't worry about that. Everyone is back safe and sound. You just lie back and relax while I check you out."

She pushed him back with what felt like irresistible force and he decided to save his energy. She shined the light in his eye, easily holding his hands down and scolding him like a child. Reflexes worked, and she sure as hell didn't seem to be giving him any modesty room with the damn hospital gown! Then, just to top it all off she tried to jab him with a needle for some reason! He smacked it away and she yelled a little before going to get a new one.

Whatever.

Jon waited until she was out of the room before sitting back up. Doctors were right up there with scientists, in his opinion, and he wasn't about to put up with it.

* * *

"Jon? What are you doing up? Did they rele-"

Trisha's voice caught him a few doors shy of his own. He kept going.

"Of course they didn't. You didn't hurt anyone on your way out of there did you?"

"Oh shut up."

Trisha grinned as she came up next to him as he swiped his card to unlock his door.

"Mmmm, nice ass there flyboy."

"Damn hospitals!"

"Yeah, but they kept you alive, so I guess you ought to give them some slack."

"They used it all up by shining their little lights in my eyes and poking me with needles."

Jon was feeling grumpy because he was almost ready to collapse. He didn't want to do it in front of anyone, though. He had reached his bed and stood irresolutely over it. If he sat down ...

Trisha pushed him from behind and he couldn't help but collapse onto his bed.

"What the hell!?"

"Come off it, grumpy gills. Sit down before you collapse and I'll get you some decent clothes."

'_If it weren't for this stupid gown leaving my ass hanging out, I'd just stay here._'

Jon rolled himself over and relaxed as he heard Trisha rummaging through his clothes.

He must have blinked out for a moment, because clothes suddenly landed on him and jerked him awake.

"Get dressed, 'cuz I'm pretty sure they're gonna come here quickly to drag you back to the infirmary."

Jon groaned as he began pulling on his clothes and boots. Trisha caught him up with the rest of the details after he had left.

"... So, we sent three teams back to scout the area afterward and it looked like it was a drug gathering area for something called 'kassa'. We're still pulling together everything we can find. I'd say it was just back luck that AT3 and their scientists ran across a drug center if it weren't for the presence of our tattooed lady friend."

Jon nodded. Relaxed back against the wall, he was working to not fall asleep while still recovering his energy.

"Yeah, while they had me, they roughed me up a bit and it sounded like they had a lot more than a drug run going on. They are plotting against Netan somehow, and it sounds like they have some secret backers. I'm guessing it's our friends with the brain poison. They made it sound like they were supposed to be taking people with them. There's more going on here, but I don't know what."

Trisha opened her mouth but a rapping at the door interrupted her. "Jon O'Neill! Open up!"

Jon rolled his eyes and waved Trisha away as he stood up.

"I'll get it."

"Are you in there?" There was more pounding and then Jon heard the speaker say to someone else. "Go ahead and open the door. He's probably unconscious."

Jon yanked the door open with as fierce a scowl as he could manage. "Or he could be changing out of that ridiculous hospital gown!"

The security guard who had been about to swipe his own badge looked worried, and Dr. Fitz looked startled and then tried to bluster.

"You're supposed to be back in your bed. We haven't finished …"

"Yeah, you have finished with me. I'm fine and I can't wait on your procedures to speak with General Richards."

"But -"

"But nothing," Jon overrode. "I'm fine to get out of bed, walk here with my ass hanging out of that stupid gown, and get myself dressed. I'm fine to go see General Richards too."

At this point Trisha stepped up next to Jon.

"I met O'Neill along the way and he is moving around just fine. I am going to accompany him to General Richards."

The security guard, seeing his boss there stood to the side to let them through the door and the stepped through.

Jon considered bumping past the doctor, but he wasn't feeling strong and he knew it, so instead he stepped around. Trisha took care of the bump.

"I am in charge of medical issues and Mr. O'Neill is suffering -"

"From unnecessary annoyance," Jon interrupted while continuing to walk. He noticed the security officer that had first accompanied Dr. Fitz had disappeared.

"And both of us are concerned about base security. We need to talk to the general."

They had arrived at an elevator, and Jon had pushed the button to drop down to the Stargate level while Trisha blocked the doctor's entrance to the elevator.

"We'll be back to the infirmary before you know it," Trisha said as the doors closed.

Jon slumped back against the wall.

"Self-important little prick. Janet was hard as nails, but she actually cared about us - the Fitz is just power tripping."

Trisha chuckled. "He and the staff drove me nuts while I was in the infirmary too. That's part of the reason I was up looking for you when you were … you know, poking around someone's room with Teal'c."

The mention of Teal'c jogged his memory. Teal'c had visited for two days a couple weeks ago, but unfortunately Jon was away. He'd wanted to talk with Teal'c, but he'd missed his opportunity. He swallowed a piece of nervousness.

"Hey, about Teal'c. I've got a question for you."

Trisha cocked her head at him with an odd grin that Jon couldn't quite interpret."

"I might be imagining things, but I'm wondering if you might not be interested in Teal'c. That so?"

"Yeah. He's a great guy."

"He's an alien, you know."

"Really? I would never have guessed," Trisha's smirk was epic.

Jon winced. He hated doing relationship stuff. He sounded like an idiot, but he had to go through with it now. Maybe she would take mercy on him because of his weakened state as she beat him.

"Well, he's Jaffa, and they're different."

"Your powers of observation astound me, Jon."

"Aw, fer cryin' out loud! I mean, he doesn't know all our Earth, you know, stuff."

Trisha's smirk had grown to a large grin.

"No Jon, I'm not sure what you mean. What stuff?"

He rubbed his face. "Like signals. He doesn't know our signals. Like girl signals."

"Girl signals? You're regressing to grade school here, Jon."

"Flirting! All right?! He might not understand your flirting signals! I don't want him and you to get mixed up because of misunderstandings."

Jon despaired as the elevator reached the Stargate's level. It opened, but he hit the close door button. Two technicians looked to object but Jon's glare kept them out.

"Ahh," said Trisha. "Mixed signals. So when I strip naked and start yanking off his clothes, he might misunderstand my intentions. I see."

"Yes! I mean, no ... probably not that. He would get that. I mean, you know, if you, tried to, well before that, um, leading up … you didn't do that, did you? I mean, I, wait." Jon closed his eyes and thumped his head into the wall of the elevator.

"You know what. I … just … forget I said anything."

Trisha's voice was sweet. "Aw, that's all right, Jon. It's nice that you were concerned. It was pretty awkward but we got through it. When I got his pants off, I couldn't speak for a couple minutes, 'cuz you know he is absolutely hu-"

"La la la la la!" Jon covered his ears.

"We really had to work at it hard. Really hard! And thick! And long!" Trisha raised her voice, yelling and laughing.

Jon turned away from her to face the doors and raised his own voice. "Not listening! Not listening! I'm not listening! La la la la la!"

Just then the door again opened. The two technicians stared in shock.

* * *

Jon winced as Trisha giggled again. It had been nearly fifteen minutes since his ill-fated elevator ride as they had waited outside the general's office for him to get off a phone call. The captain and two first lieutenants who served as the general's staff continued to give them puzzled looks.

He was sitting with his arms crossed and chin jutted out, trying to ignore Trisha who was sitting next to him. Her laughter still bubbled over in shaky breaths and muffled giggles.

'_Stupid women. See if I ever try to help her and Teal'c again. Just trying to help them out._'

Trisha began shaking silently and Jon tightened his crossed arms again.

'_Ought to assign her to P3X-whatever with the farting swamps. Server her and her juvenile humor right._'

'_Can't see what Teal'c sees in her. Way too crude for his refined tastes._'

He heard the General Richards voice go silent and he jumped up to the door. About time! The man had no business making him wait out here with _her_ while he chatted on the phone.

He ignored the Captain's voice of protest as he knocked. "General Richards, sir?"

A muffled 'come in' was the answer.

"Sir, I have a few details to add from the last mission."

General Richards looked up in irritation to see Jon there and waved his hand. "Captain Timms get in here! Not now, Jon, we've had something else come up. Timms, all gate travel is suspended and we are, as of this moment, on high alert. I'm sending out notes right now," his fingers were rattling over the keyboard.

Richards spoke to Jon as Timms darted back out. "Your friend, Daniel Jackson, was turned into a Prior and has hijacked the _Odyssey_ and taken off with SG1 and General O'Neill. You two need to put base security on high alert."

General Richards sent his message and turned to the door, ignoring Jon and Trisha.

"Robertson! Sound general alert. Prepare all X fighters for immediate launch. Call all department heads for an immediate meeting."

Jon tugged at Trisha's elbow as they left the office, the place had exploded from the quietness of a moment before into a buzzing hive of phone calls and shouts back and forth.

While he was thrilled to hear that Daniel was alive, Daniel as a Prior was worse than being dead in some ways. Taking Earth's main defense with him? At least Jack was there and might be able to save Daniel.

"They'll both be fine, Jon. You'll see." Trisha's hand on his shoulder was a welcome connection.

Jon nodded. "Of course. Can't beat SG1. They'll save Daniel and save the day." He knew his tone didn't match his words.

"I've got to get going," Trisha said as she patted his shoulder again. "Make sure the base is ready if anything happens."

Jon nodded absently as she hurried off. He was supporting Gate missions, and so wasn't involved in the hurry. Yet. His mind returned to his friends.

The rest of SG1 hadn't been mentioned - just Jack. What was Jack doing involved in this? He was supposed to be off the front lines, running things from the Pentagon. Would Sam have been on the ship when it was taken? Teal'c?

He saw Tex run across a hallway intersection ahead of him, on his way to the meeting. Jon shook his head. He couldn't worry. Time to get his head back in the game here and now.

He started running to catch up with Tex, but quickly stopped as his head began swimming with the simple exertion. He leaned against the wall, waiting for his breath to return. Damn it. While he sure as hell didn't need to be confined to a bed, he knew he wasn't up to performing his duty. His head had stopped spinning, but he was exhausted.

"Crap."

He'd leave it in Tex's capable hands to handle the teams. It was mainly just deciding whether to recall them back to base or letting them know they should hunker down where they were.

Heck, while they were working on that, he'd have time to work on figuring out what the Alliance was up to.

He made his way to his room, staying out of the way of the now-swarming personnel that seemed to be running everywhere.

"Ok, Jon, let's start taking notes before you forget stuff."

He stood at his desk and paused - tiredness rolled over him in what seemed to be waves.

Maybe a nap, instead. He made it over to his bed and collapsed.

* * *

Jon became conscious that he was just lying in bed and began to roll over, but his muscles screamed their protest and he stopped.

"Wha tu he?"

What had happened? He tried to move again, but once again his muscles completely resisted any movement, screaming in protest.

Why the hell did he hurt so much? He reviewed his memories for clues - zatted, awakened and beaten a bit, waking up in the infirmary, stupid conversation with Trisha, alarm, asleep.

Jon didn't know what was causing this, but decided to muscle through the pain. He hadn't hurt this bad since recovering from Iraq, and the bit of beating he'd gotten from the Alliance goons had been nothing in comparison. Oh well. It was only pain, and he could force himself through pain.

Bracing for it and then forcing his muscles to operate in spite of their screams of protest, he pushed himself to a sitting position.

"Ugh. Something ran over you with a truck, no, make that a goa'uld mothership, Jonny boy. How long did you sleep?"

He carefully turned his head to see the clock on his desk. 1850. Well, he had either slept nine hours, or thirty three hours. He forced himself to stand and stagger over to his computer to check the date. June 30th, still. Ok. Nine hours.

He had to get this pain under control. He couldn't go out barely able to move. He searched through his stash of supplies and grabbed a muscle relaxant and a few pain pills, popping them in and swallowing with a bottle of tepid water. Ok, grab a hot shower, and then hopefully he'd be able to move.

Twenty minutes later, Jon was walking down a hall toward Tex's office. The new director of Stargate missions was now sharing the office with Tex, and Jon had moved out. His more active status of leading missions through the Stargate had essentially removed his need for an office, and Jon was just fine with that.

He stepped into the room to find Tex alone.

"Tex, what's up? What have I missed?"

"Hey there, cowboy. Glad you're up and moving."

Tex didn't look up from his computer.

"No new news from Earth and no action here on Alpha. We pulled back all teams safely. Still sitting at full alert."

Jon nodded and gingerly sat down in his chair with a soft groan.

"How about what happened with the kidnapping attempt?"

Tex shook his head, finally looking up. "General Richards is focused on supporting Earth requests. He pushed the kidnapping attempt off until after the Ori crisis is sorted out. Not much we could do anyway with Gate travel shut down.

"The new base director and I discussed it briefly, but he's of the opinion that further exploration should be slowed if the Alliance is going to continue being a threat. Support existing mining and trade, but no further exploration."

Jon frowned. That was one way to approach it, but … Earth hadn't kicked ass for a decade by hiding.

"Way above our paygrade, Jon. Erick," the new base director who replaced 'Simmons', "is following directions from Leidos and the research contractors. Simmons was very active on trips, but he was a potentially hostile alien and it cost a lot of money, so they decided to cut back trips. Apparently they were going to announce the change in operational methods soon when the latest emergency hit."

"What about the military," Jon objected. "They're the ones ultimately running this, not corporate profits."

Tex gave a sour smile. "You've obviously been really active military your whole life. Direct military action is completely run by the military, sure, but as soon as bases and infrastructure get set up beyond just operational support, contractors start swinging a really big stick. They're here to," Tex cleared his throat and began apparently quoting something, "support this base and continue research into alien technology, not carry out military operations against hostile forces."

Tex shrugged. "They have a point. Alpha site isn't supposed to be doing front-line combat. We're the support and backup site. We're the bug-out site if disaster strikes Earth and a place to do research that they don't want to do on our homeworld. Combat ops and potentially leading hostiles back here isn't what we're supposed to be doing."

"So that's it? We're shutting down Gate operations?" Jon felt vaguely sick at the idea.

"Not completely - we're still running our regular trade routes with established trading partners and our mining operations. But, nothing beyond those. It hasn't been officially stated, but that's what is going to be released as soon as the Ori issue is over."

Jon rolled it over in his mind. He hated these things - it was like fighting Kinsey and the NID - all backroom maneuvers and fights won by meetings.

"But there's still hostiles out there who infiltrated the base. We need to find out who they are, and when the Alliance was holding me, it certainly sounded like they were working for someone else with bigger plans than just a shipment of drugs."

"Definitely write it up in your report, but I don't think it's going to change anything. This has been coming for a while, and I've already brought up the infiltration issue. The general response was that the infiltration was done by factions in the Alliance, and now that we are on the alert they'll have a much harder time inserting someone again."

Jon let his displeasure show. "We never found the real Simmons' body - they were able to get someone in, kill Simmons, and make his body disappear."

"Well, as you know, there was a whole lot of nothin' when it came to clues to what happened. The best guess is goa'uld rings done at night. A cloaked ship, ring someone down to collect DNA while Simmons was away from his room, apply the changes, and then swap people after the changes were completed. It was probably done right at the beginning of Simmons' time here. Same for the others."

Jon hated that explanation, but he couldn't argue with it. It just didn't match with him finding the weapons and equipment on Earth. Why worry about the Alpha site if you already had access to Earth? And if the Alliance had access to Earth …

"Gah!" Jon threw his hands in the air, or started to until the sudden movement sent a quick jerk of pain through the dulling drugs.

"You ok, partner?"

"Yeah. Still a bit sore.

"This sucks, but there's just not anything I can do about it. We didn't get to being one of the more powerful forces in the galaxy by staying cooped up on our own little planet. We need to be out exploring! Learning! Growing!"

"Costs money, though."

Jon grimaced. "If it had just been money considered, we'd still be ignorantly sitting on our own ball of dirt without a clue of the rest of the galaxy. And as soon as a system lord showed up, and one eventually would have, we would be butchered and turned into slaves."

"I … aw, hell. I'm not even gonna play the devil's advocate. I agree Jon, but these decisions are made way, way above our paygrade."

Jon snarled and Tex laughed.

"Don't worry too much, though. Once the Ori are taken care of, I suspect the military will start resuming activity. This is just a lull, Jon, and it's only applying to the offworld bases. The SGC is still going to be active even if we move to a support role."

Jon sighed and nodded. Maybe his tiredness and soreness was affecting his view of the world.

"Ok. I'll punch in my report and see if I can move the needle with it. If not, I guess I can be patient."

"About all we can do for now."

* * *

**A/N: Yup, Jon's getting a bit down at this point.**


	30. Stinker of a Problem

**It's been a bit larger of a gap than normal, but it was for a really good reason - I didn't want to stop writing to go back and edit and post. So, I've got a good-sized queue of writing to get posted up pretty quickly.**

**On the bad side of things - there were several VERY late night writing sessions and while I haven't gone back to edit them, I suspect they are less than lucid. I'll do my best to make sure they're comprehensible, but no promises! We're coming up on some big changes in some lives here, and I hated to slow down and go back. Hopefully you'll enjoy things as people progress.**

* * *

**December 9th, 2010, Alpha Site**

'_Jon O'Neill. Dispatch here. Come in, please._'

Jon pressed his earpiece.

"O'Neill here. What's up dispatch?"

'_Teal'c here to see you at the Gate Room._'

Jon's eyes widened in surprise. That was certainly unexpected!

Teal'c had come to the Alpha site a week after the alarm about Daniel being a Prior had happened to let Jon know Daniel had managed to recover from his stint as a Prior. At least that's what he said. Trisha and Teal'c had spent a lot of time sparring and then take hours to get cleaned up.

"Let him know I'm an hour out. I'm on my way back to base right now."

Jon was running a mountain route. He had started needing more variety in his life, and ever-increasingly varied workouts were his outlet. It had taken his body nearly three weeks to finally get back to a ready state to lead teams through the gate again, but there didn't seem to be any further issues. Dr. Fitz had forced Jon into the infirmary twice more to examine him, and the final verdict was that the two zat blasts in such a short time had very nearly drained every last bit of energy in his body, and that it just took his body a long time to restore everything.

Getting back onto the gate schedule hadn't helped much, though. They were all milk runs, now - sitting around while payments and bargains were made with friendly trading partners.

Jon looked below him. It had taken him nearly three hours to ascend this route. He considered the sixty foot cliff he had free-climbed on the way up. Too slow to climb back down. Too far to go around. A large pine tree-like plant grew about thirty feet away from the cliff. Eh, why not?

Jon backed up twenty feet and then sprinted forward, arms and legs pumping. He lept outward and felt long seconds of exhilarating freefall as he arched up and then down before striking the tree branches. The semi-rigid branches caught and ripped at his bare chest, but these plants were more like stiff ferns than trees back home and as Jon crashed through them, only a few scratched him.

"Oomph!"

Jon's chest impacted the larger branch he had aimed for, an though it cracked it didn't snap, and he let his body fold for a second before dropping down toward the branches below.

A minute later he finished descending the tree and took off running again.

The Supergate still seemed to be active, so Earth was still in danger, but the Ori had seemed surprisingly unaggressive, especially considering the reinforcements they had gotten. That, plus the fact that so far no more ships had come through was giving Jon some genuine hope that the Ori might have been halted - at least mostly so.

One of this favorite stretches was coming up, a rockslide had left massive boulders scattered for nearly a mile. Sure, a person could run between the boulders, but where was the fun in that? Speed or fun? Eh, two minutes wasn't that important in this case. Besides, that was half the point of these runs - something to do for excitement.

He jumped off the last of the boulders, doing a flip that left him sprawling flat on his stomach, but grinning, and again ran through the alien forest, leaping logs and creeks. He could let his concentration wander again on this stretch. He'd need to find another, more challenging path.

Maybe he should head back to Earth and change things up that way. Life with the Stargate was losing its interest. He was making regular trips through the gate, but it was boring. Anyone could do his job now. But what did he do with his life without the Stargate?

There was the Atlantis expedition. Maybe he could get over there somehow. The details of the Atlantis expedition were classified and tightly held, but Jon had caught a few bits and pieces. It certainly sounded exciting.

'_Better than being a glorified caravan guard._'

He was only a couple miles from the base now. A quarter mile down the side of this mountain, across the valley, and then part way up the next one.

Even the almost guaranteed excitement of the Atlantis expedition didn't fill him with the same rush of excitement, though. He wasn't sure what he wanted. Atlantis certainly seemed like the best route, though. The military hadn't started exploration again, and Jon was beginning to suspect they wouldn't.

Space ships were starting to be feasible. A lot more flexibility, certainly. Not nearly as fast, though. Maybe a posting on an exploratory spaceship? The Stargate program would be going public eventually, and businesses would dominate Stargate activity soon after as they rushed to capitalize on its possibilities.

'_And that's a good thing. Really. Just boring._'

Colonies. Genuine colonies on other planets. Maybe that would be the way - go with a group that would certainly be heading out to colonize a planet. Adventurers seeking a new life. Or a buck.

'_They'd probably be mostly sponsored groups colonizing planets with some natural resources for a business._'

He was starting up the rise leading to the mountainside entrance to the base. A quarter mile before he could see the gates. He was feeling his legs burn, but it was a long-familiar sort of burn that he knew he could sustain all day if need be. Heck, there were times that he had. He picked up his speed, pushing himself harder.

He could see a few glimpses of grey cement ahead of him through the trees. Another two hundred yards.

A small boulder suddenly appeared out of what seemed to be nowhere and Jon jumped by instinct.

'_Stinker!_' The damn beast's camouflage had kept it invisible until Jon's noise finally disturbed its munching.

Too tall to clear, Jon landed part way up the massive beast's side with a heavy '_whump_' and grabbed onto the long, coarse hair.

"Grrraaaawwww!"

Stinker swung his head around, snapping at whatever had dared to attack it. Twice the animal spun around, trying to reach Jon as Jon hung on for dear life. Unable to reach the human, Stinker switched tactics slammed his three ton body against a tree.

Jon saw it coming and managed to yank himself up onto Stinker's back. Stinker rubbed back and forth, trying to scrape Jon off. Still frustrated, the huge beast dropped to its knees and began to roll over.

Unable to jump far from his position on all fours, Jon managed to land next to the animal as it rolled and scrambled away as it continued rolling toward him.

Jon got to his feet in a flash and began sprinting with everything he had toward the gates. This! This was awesome! He'd probably die, but yes!

He heard the animal give an angry roar and begin getting to its feet. Jon was under no illusions that he could outrun it for long, but he just needed to stay ahead of it long enough!

The clearing before the gates beckoned as he ran, air burning through his chest. It was his salvation and his danger. Once clear of the brush and trees, Stinker would be able to pick up speed and catch Jon. But, if the guards were keeping watch …

Jon burst out of the brush with a small stumble and picked up speed. A second later he could hear Stinker burst through as well. A football field's length stretch before him, cleared and packed down dirt. He could see motion in the emplacement to the side of the gate but couldn't focus on it - every last bit of energy was being thrown into running.

The ground was vibrating with the animal's own thundering weight and Jon could swear he could feel the thing's breath on his back.

Suddenly gunshots began roaring out and Jon could see little divots of dirt spouting up around him.

Something must have hit Stinker because a roar suddenly sounded and the vibrations of thudding paws ceased. Jon glanced behind and saw Stinker skidding to a halt, spinning and trying to see what had attacked it from the side.

Jon sprinted forward, seconds later crossing the gate as the men manning it slammed it shut behind him.

Jon stumbled to a halt and doubled over, heaving and gasping for breath. The rushing in his ears muddled the voices gathering around for a minute until he could finally stand back up.

"What happened?" "What did you do?" "Never seen Stinker chase someone!"

Jon looked behind and saw Stinker disappear back into the forest, roaring and smashing out around him.

"What happened Jon?"

Jon took a couple more breaths before he could speak.

"I wished for more excitement in my life." He panted. "Don't ever ... wish for more excitement."

Laughter broke out around him.

* * *

Jon's legs were still feeling shaky as he strode through the halls. The fastest thing in the universe - gossip - had sped ahead of him, and everyone who saw him seemed to laugh and slap him on the shoulder.

At the beginning of the hallway to his room, he saw Teal'c and Trisha standing next to each other with arms crossed. Trisha had a big grin on her face while Teal'c eyes were crinkled and his lips twitching upward at the corners.

"Oh shut up, you two."

A quick look passed between the two and their smiles widened.

Jon pushed past them and opened his door. He stripped off his ripped tank top as he headed for the shower.

"Not a word, you two. Not a word."

"Indeed."

"Indeed."

Jon spun and glared at them as their words came out as one.

That was too much for Trisha and she collapsed in peals of laughter. Teal'c began grinning and a low rumbling chuckle began emanating from his chest.

Jon glared for a moment longer before his own mouth began to twitch. A little snort escaped him followed by a chuckle of his own. A second later,Jon too was roaring with laughter, sitting on his ass, leaning back against the wall, tears streaming down his face.

* * *

Teal'c was sitting on the floor across from him in Jon's room with Trisha lounging against a wall with her long legs casually on top of Teal'c. Several beer bottles were sitting on flat surfaces around them, and they were finally slowing down from their night of revelry.

Long silences passed between comments as the three of them relaxed comfortably with the others. Jon had finally gotten himself into the shower after an embarrassingly long time of helplessly rolling on the floor with laughter. It had been a party after that - first in the commissary, then to one of the social lounges, and finally into Jon's room.

Jon was feeling delightfully satisfied, but something had begun bugging Jon for the last couple hours. In all the years that he had spent with Teal'c, the man had never joined into revelry like this. Sure, others would have considered him to be merely a spectator putting in occasional clever or deep comments, but Jon knew him far better.

Offering his own observations to strangers. Striking jokes. Smiling and chuckling at the ribald and rowdy jokes flowing back and forth. For Teal'c this was cutting loose more than Jon could ever remember - more than he would have thought the big man would enjoy.

"T."

The tone of Jon's voice caught both Teal'c and Trisha's attention. Trisha didn't have the decade of familiarity, but she seemed a common kindred who fit and understood them well enough.

"Why are you here?"

"I have a favor to ask of you, Jon."

His voice was casual, but the words were far from it, at least coming from Teal'c. He, Jack, and Jon had a bond that Jon couldn't describe. It was far beyond needing to ask for favors in this way - they merely asked for some help and it was given without question.

Jon sat up. "You have it," he replied.

Contrary to the Jaffa's casual tone, his own was laden with all the gravity he could give. Trisha came alert, trying to understand the waters which had suddenly become deep.

"I wish to speak with you and Trish'a, but there may not be things hidden."

Jon was stunned. Of course he would tell Trisha everything. That was but a small thing.

"Of course."

He didn't know what was coming, but he would follow Teal'c in this. He trusted the man with his life and soul.

"So, Trisha, everything I've told you about myself is a lie."

This might be serious beyond what he yet understood, but he would do things in his own way.

"All right." Trisha's tone was cautious, but not skeptical and Jon caught a fleeting expression of pleasure pass over Teal'c.

"I am forty nine years old. I was once Jack O'Neill, the guy who is now General Jack O'Neill. I'm a clone."

That was too much for Trisha's composure to take and her jaw dropped as she stared at him.

He smirked a little. He hadn't been able to set it up as much as he would have liked, but he was getting a pretty good reaction, nonetheless.

"You're General O'Neill? Clone? How? Ancient?" The questions finally sputtered from her in a disjointed fashion.

"Hey! I'm not ancient! Haven't you heard, forty-nine is the new twenty."

The familiar irreverence pulled Trisha's mind back on track and she snorted.

"You know what? I can actually believe that. I met General O'Neill once - he gave us a quick briefing. I liked him. You certainly look enough alike, but I figured you might be a nephew or something. He's you? Did a clone of you go wrong, er, no that can't …"

Jon let loose a chuckle. She hadn't quite caught everything up yet.

"Nope. About six years ago an Asgard by the name of Loki decided to play mad scientist with Jack."

Jon started at the beginning and covered everything, passing glibly over the hard years following his creation, but Trisha winced anyway, perhaps sensing what he was covering. Jon was surprised at how easy it was to share this. He had imagined that sharing it would be a difficult thing if it ever happened, but it wasn't, and that in itself lightened his spirits.

"So, Teal'c and I go way back," Jon wrapped it up. "Years and years fighting the good fight together. Kicked a lot of goa'uld ass." It had only taken a few minutes and Jon was feeling positively cheerful by the end of it.

Trisha sat for a minute as another comfortable silence settled. "So. I think I'm gonna call you 'old geezer' a lot from now on."

Jon laughed aloud.

'_Damn it feels good to have another person in on the secret!_'

"So, Teal'c my brother, what weighty words have we to speak?"

Trisha's eyes showed confusion for a moment as she tried to figure out what he was talking about, until she realized this was only the prelude to the real topic. She turned her face toward Teal'c, eyes widening.

"Words of the soul." Teal'c gave a solemn nod to them both. "An enemy struck at what I hold dear. Arkad was his name. Cunning and honorless, he had followed the ways of Origin, but this was only his way to power. He struck at me many times in the past, hitting where I could not protect. This time he killed many innocent Jaffa, and broke apart the cohesion of the Jaffa. Perhaps the Jaffa have lost all chance of being strong again and will instead be a fractured people, merely following the lead and power of others.

"I sought him out, letting none stop me, either friend or foe. I slew him in the end."

"Sounds like the galaxy is much better off without the piece of slime," Jon nodded with approval. "I'm sure there were people who had political reasons to work with Arkad. They were wrong."

"Indeed."

"So what's the problem," Trisha asked.

"I have lived with you Taur'i for some years now, and many things seem foolish to me, and yet the Taur'i are strong. My own views must be in error and perhaps I have poorly led the Jaffa people. I wish to save the soul of my people, and yet I do not know how. I seek the wisdom of the Taur'i.

"I have lived a long time and have seen much conquest - this I understand and I do not fear for the soul of the Jaffa if we face conquest. Indeed, as the false gods fought, many times groups of Jaffa were conquered but they did not lose their strength or honor as a people even in losing.

"But, I have learned of other threats which are far more grave. Here in your country, the 'Native Americans' were proud warriors, but now I have read that they are confined to small areas and many are trapped by intoxicants. They are not alone - in Daniel's history books I have learned of a great many such things happening. Everywhere the Taur'i have spread, the weaker Taur'i have done poorly.

"I see that the Taur'i shall become a great power in the galaxy, and the Jaffa will be pushed aside. It is this that I fear for the soul of the Jaffa, and I know not how to lead that such a fate not befall my people. "

Jon sat back numbly. This was more than he knew how to answer. It might explain why he seemed to be trying to involve himself in the interactions they'd had tonight. Immersion with Taur'i to better understand.

His mind spun, lacking purchase.

"Why me? Why Trisha? There are people who are experts in social history. Daniel knows everything like that."

Trisha answered for Teal'c, "Because … the Jaffa are warriors. Daniel knows the history of how warrior people fall, but he doesn't understand the people. He is a scholar. Brilliant, but not a warrior at heart. I only met him for a little, but that was obvious. He may see the problem, but he doesn't understand the people or their solution."

"Indeed."

Jon smiled a little at Teal'c's terse confirmation. After that big, long speech the big man was all worded out!

Jon didn't reply, thinking carefully. He tried to think of his history classes.

Minutes passed as he thought. Finally, he shook his head.

"Teal'c, I do not know the answer, yet, but I think I might see some possible answers. Unity. Identity. You know this - together a people are strong. Even if they argue among themselves, as long as they see each other as like themselves, they will work together and resist together. This is one reason why you wish to bring the Jaffa together."

"This isn't just true of armed conflict," Trisha added. "A people bonded together will resist damaging wounds of the soul as well. Laziness and apathy find little room in a people who support and care for each other."

Teal'c slowly nodded at their words, but Jon saw sadness settle over his features.

"I see wisdom in your words, and yet the answer is the very thing which is perhaps forever beyond my people, now."

"No!"

Trisha's vehemence caught both Jon and Teal'c by surprise.

"That's not true! Attacks like this Akad person did don't shatter a people. If anything it might draw them closer together. Now there is greater need than ever to gather people together. If they are gathered together now, it will show everyone that they are not stopped by anything, even attacks by Akad, or Arkad or whatever his name is."

Teal'c paused again, considering the words before bowing to Trisha.

"You are correct. I see that fear was guiding my path. I shall not allow Arkad to win."

"Hey, as much as I hate to admit it, my older version probably has some good advice too - he's been dealing with politics for years now."

"Indeed. I intend to ask him, but he is greatly occupied with the fight against the Ori."

Jon shrugged. "Ask him anyway. It will roll around in that grey head for a while and he might come up with something."

Teal'c nodded to Jon's knowledge of ... himself, his other self.

"And … Daniel, too. Though he doesn't understand a warrior people as well, he would love to teach you all about the history of everything, and you can certainly apply that to your decisions."

"I shall."

A small smile graced Teal'c face.

"There is a plan being developed to lay a cunning trap for the leader of the Ori forces. Perhaps the threat of the Ori will be ended soon."

"Hear hear! Down with the Ori and all false gods," Jon toasted.

"Indeed."

"Indeed."

Teal'c and Trisha smiled at each other.

"Aww, go get a room you two."

Teal'c stood to his feet and Trisha rose with him.

"You give excellent advice," Teal'c clapped him on the shoulder. "I shall follow this advice as well."

Jon stood as well and escorted them to the door.

"T, I've got a long stretch back on Earth starting in a couple weeks. I will keep thinking on this. Let's meet."

"We will look forward to seeing you then," Teal'c replied.

Jon looked between the two of them and grinned.

"Really? Good."

"G'night, Jon."

"Goodnight, JonO'Neill."

Jon looked at the two of them walking together down the hall. Walking down the hall, next to each other, but not touching - some might think them merely companions, but Jon could see the little hints of body language which seemed so clear to him. There was no holding of hands, but they were bound together.

'_Good. Forging a nation isn't a job for a person alone._'

Jon closed his door and looked about the room. Without his friends, it was just a room. His loneliness hit him again, but he pushed it back.

He wasn't sure what exactly he wanted, but he would figure it out one of these days.

A full smile grew on his face.

Even though he was still looking, his friends had found a partner and soulmate. Aye, that warmed the heart.


	31. Can't Un-see Some Things

**Again, it would be really cool if the coming chapters were being posted around Christmas, but oh well. You all get a bit of Christmas in May! For those of you in the US, enjoy the Memorial Day weekend. Hopefully I'll be able to get some editing done this weekend, but I'm coming up (in the new writing) on a part I've been looking forward to for a while and I don't want to stop to post the stuff I've already written. I'll try to be a good boy and get more posted this weekend.**

* * *

**December 22nd, 2010, Cheyenne Mountain**

Jon stepped out of the wormhole with a stream of others from the Alpha site. Christmas meant as many as possible were returning to Earth to spend time with family.

Over the last few days, news had trickled through the grapevine that something had gone down with the Ori and that they had been stopped somehow. Or maybe tricked? Or sent back to their galaxy? It was extremely vague, though, and there weren't any rumors of a battle. Nonetheless, despite the vagueness, any news of the Ori being weakened or halted in some way was enough to bring everyone's spirits up to celebratory levels, and the group accompanying Jon to Earth were far more boisterous than Christmas by itself would have explained.

Even with the man's height, it took a minute to spot Teal'c in the hubbub. He was waiting, apparently calmly, to the side, but Jon could see his eyes were focused on Trisha.

He nudged Trisha and pointed in Teal'c direction. Trisha was less reserved and broke out into a huge smile and began pushing her way through the crowd toward him. Jon could see the suppressed relief in their bodies as they held each other's hands in a Jaffa bow and then came together for a very Earth-like hug.

Jon eventually worked his way over.

"Teal'c, my man! How's it hangin'?"

"Nearly upright."

Trisha burst into laughter and Jon closed his eyes. He had forgotten.

"Ok. Who told you how to answer that greeting?"

"ValaMalDoran."

Jon raised his eyebrows at that. He hadn't met her, but he'd seen her name show up in reports from the last few years. Another alien, former goa'uld host, former smuggler, and apparently quite the headache to authority.

Jon liked her, sight unseen.

"Got it. I'll have to meet her sometime."

"We are gathering in two days for a Christmas celebration. You are welcome to come."

Jon paused. Christmas Eve with the team?

His heart began to beat faster at the thought. He had his own life now. He was here to discuss with Teal'c issues with the Jaffa people. Would he be able to drop into his old life again? Jack? Sam? The thought of seeing them together wasn't painful, but he didn't think he wanted to watch. But, maybe …

"Who all's gonna be there?"

"General O'Neill particularly said you would be welcome."

"Come on, Jon. I could use another person I know there."

Jon made a snap decision. "Geez, guys. Stop ganging up on me. I'll come! I'll come! Jack's house?"

"Indeed."

"Good!" Trisha was grinning. "You can make the old man jealous. Let him know how awesome it is to not have knees that hurt."

Jon was still getting used to Trisha's behavior. He liked it, but it had been very weird until it had dawned on him - she was treating him as if he was the original and Jack was the spin-off. It still felt odd, but it was a very good sort of odd.

"Ha! You're right - I'm not going to to turn down that opportunity."

"There is much to celebrate. The leader of the Ori is gone."

Jon gaped.

"Adria? Dead?"

"Ascended."

"Oh crap."

Teal'c raised an eyebrow.

"Well, you know, Apophis was ascended too and was able to cause more trouble than ever."

Teal'c gave a solemn nod. "Indeed. However, Adria reached peace before ascending. DanielJackson is most certain she shall not attempt to reassert power here."

"Oh, then … then that is reason to celebrate! Cake! There must be cake!"

"Indeed."

"Hey, are Carter and Spacemonkey here?"

"I believe they are."

"Great! Let's go say 'hi', and you can fill me in on all the details of how you guys finally got Adria."

"We cannot stay long. We must retrieve CassandraFrasier from the airport."

Jon looked at Teal'c with surprise. "Cassie? She's coming? I figured she was swamped with work."

"I believe she is always 'swamped with work'. She is coming, nonetheless."

"Good. Good."

Jon hadn't heard from Cassie for several weeks. In fact, he had only heard from her twice over the last six months since he had gone to her, asking for her help. He had hoped to find time to visit Earth again, but instituting and training the new security standards for Stargate trip security had kept him too busy. He had sent a half dozen letters to her, but she had only sent two short missives back to him.

He had finally decided she was busy with school. At nineteen, well twenty now, and most of the way through a Masters in genetics, and already beginning work on her doctorate, he figured she had work piled to the ceiling. He missed her letters and often thought of her. He'd made sure to keep sending his letters, but carefully avoided writing anything that would make her feel obligated to write back.

But, he missed hearing from her all the same.

They strode through the hallways, first running into Vala.

Jon smiled and decided that yes, he liked her as much as he suspected he would.

When they met Daniel, and she greeted him with a cheery 'darling!' that made Daniel jump before she turned the man's words around to leave him flustered and blushing, Jon knew that she was going to be good for the man. Daniel was obviously resisting, but Jon could tell it wouldn't be long before she wore him down.

Trisha and Vala, though, seemed to be getting on dangerously well.

Daniel's face began to get a hunted look as the two women began to consider his attributes, good and bad, in delighted turns. Soon Teal'c was roped into the comparisons, though he bore the assault with a quiet stoicism, his amusement shown only by tiny crinkles at the corners of his eyes.

Teal'c and Trisha. Daniel and Vala. Sam and Jack.

Jon began to feel like the odd person out.

"I'm going to pick up Cassie. I don't want to interrupt the women bonding here. Teal'c, you and Daniel keep 'em out of trouble."

"But! Jon!"

Jon could feel Daniel's glare of outrage burning a hole in his back as Jon sprinted down the hallway. Discretion was definitely the better part of valor in this case. He was getting out of there before he got pulled in.

* * *

Jon parked at the airport and found his way to the arrival area and sat down to wait. Amazingly the plane seemed to be on time, and it was only a few minutes until a fresh rush poured out of the doors. Jon wondered how hard it would be to set up a transportation system with the Asgard beaming technology. The travelers looked uniformly harried and unhappy. Some quick teleportation? How quickly could the teleports be done?

It took a moment to spot Cassie coming down the slope among the hordes of other holiday flyers. She looked tired and pressed like all the others, but she still managed to make it look good.

He smiled to himself as he took a moment to watch her. She was now twenty years old, and Jon could hardly believe how mature she looked. Each time he saw her again, it seemed like she was more composed and confident than the time before. Maybe a bit frazzled at the moment, but still it was the frazzled look of maturity, not the frantic uncertainty of a person who didn't know what to do.

Her light brown hair hung in waves, longer than last time, and he liked its swirl as she walked. As the crowd reached the concourse they spread out and Cassie picked up a little speed. Jeans and a tight turtleneck sweater made for easy traveling, but Jon thought they looked really good on her, too. She walked past and he admired her profile until it suddenly dawned on him - '_Scheisse! I'm supposed to be picking her up!_'

He pushed aside what had distracted him with an uneasy shake. It had just surprised him to see her as a woman, and not a kid. That was all.

He moved into the flow of people toward the baggage carousel and carefully came up beside her, keeping himself relaxed and non-threatening, avoiding any excess motion that might catch her attention.

"The lab let you escape?"

"Aaah!" Cassie jumped just the way he had hoped and Jon put on an overly innocent face on. He was going to tease her just like he always had. No different than ever before.

"Jon! Don't scare me like that! What are you doing here?"

"Oh, I had Thor drop me in when he sensed you waiting for your bags here."

Cassie's eyes went wide as she frantically looked around to see how many people had noticed him teleport in. Jon smirked to himself and counted down quickly, '_3,2,1, and -_'

Cassie punched him in the shoulder, hard.

"Jeez, Jon! Didn't I just tell you not to scare me like that?"

Jon finally let a smirk show, earning him another punch on the chest.

"Couldn't resist. I offered to come pick you up. Trisha and Vala are getting on altogether too well for my comfort. I tossed Daniel to the wolves and ran for it. You don't have to run faster than the bear, you just have to run faster than the guy next to you."

Cassie let out a little giggle and hugged him. He returned the hug and closed his eyes, enjoy the feeling for just a second - human touch was a powerful thing.

"Well, I might have to let slip that you compared Vala to a bear."

Jon gave a look of exaggerated horror.

"Is Trisha back on Earth for Christmas too?"

Jon thought for a second and realized Cassie didn't know of Teal'c and Trisha. He hadn't mentioned that in any of his letters. Probably not many people knew outside the Alpha base. The rumor mill hadn't taken long to accurately conclude that the famed Teal'c of SG1 and one of their base security people had been spending a lot of time with each other for more than just sparring sessions. But, the Alpha base was a tight-knit community and the news wouldn't have spread beyond.

"Trisha is going to the Christmas party at Jack's place."

Cassie's brow furrowed in puzzlement. "Trisha's coming? Why … Oh, are you coming?"

Jon nodded. "Yup. Jack's getting too old to handle things himself, so he begged me to come."

"Ha! You keep giving me all these blackmail lines. Don't think I'm not gonna use 'em!" Cassie elbowed him and then stepped forward through the crowd to pull a case from the carousel. "One more," she let Jon know.

"So, you're coming? That's great. And you brought Trisha with you?"

'_Darn, I should have kept quiet about Trisha. Seeing Cassie figure it out would have been fun._'

"Yup."

He saw Cassie twist a ring on her finger. Jon was pretty sure it was one of Janet's favorite rings and he felt a wave of regret that he'd never see her again. And Cassie - losing a mother.

Jon smiled softly, remembering times with Janet. Outside the infirmary she was loving and loyal.

Cassie's voice broke his reverie.

"So, you and Trisha are pretty serious, then?"

Jon's thoughts fell to pieces around him.

'_Trisha? Why are we talking about - Oh. Yeah. Why would Cassie think … Oh. Yeah._' Jon mentally smacked himself. '_You can be a bit dense at times, Jonny boy!_'

"No, well, yeah, but not romantically. She's interested in someone else. Um … in fact, I'm gonna let exactly who be a surprise for you. See if you can figure out who it is."

Cassie's expression was a puzzle to Jon. He couldn't sort out what she was thinking. It wasn't a puzzle-solving look, exactly, but … he couldn't figure it out, quite.

"It must be Daniel, but …" her voice trailed off. "Or did she and Mitchell meet at some point?"

Jon crossed his arms with a shit-eating grin.

"You're impossible!"

Another thump on the shoulder.

Jon spotted a bag coming that matched the one Cassie had pulled out and pointed to it.

"Yup, that's it." Cassie grabbed it out and Jon picked up her other one.

"Let's get going. If I know the team, they'll be setting up a dinner somewhere. If they get a big enough group, they'll probably declare for O'Malley's and turn it into a night out. Hope you aren't too tired from the flight."

"Nope. Dinner at O'Malley's sounds great to me!"

The drive back from the airport wound up taking them to O'Malley's. Cassie had contacted Sam and discovered that there were indeed plans to head to the team's favorite restaurant and bar.

"Told ya' so," Jon mouthed.

Twenty minutes later they sat down at the bar to wait for the others to arrive. Jon started off with a beer, to Cassie's amusement.

"A beer? I happen to know how old you really are," she whispered as she sipped on her own Coke.

"That makes one of us. Care to let me know how old I 'really' am?"

Cassie just giggled softly.

"Hey, no giggling … Cassie."

"Giving orders, Mister Twenty Year Old?"

"My totally legal license says I'm twenty five. I'll give orders if I want."

"Fourteen. Not a day over fourteen."

Jon let out a bark of laughter. "I imagine the others wouldn't disagree."

"So where are you staying? How about Trisha?"

Jon smothered a grin. She had pried for information on Trisha a few times. "I'm crashing with Teal'c. Trisha - you'll have to figure out where she's staying. How about you?"

Cassie sighed, "I'm staying with Sam. Or, at least at her place. She's probably going to be staying over at - "

Cassie's mouth snapped shut and she suddenly became very interested in her drink.

It was Jon's turn to sigh. "Hey, no need to tiptoe around. I know she and Jack are finally together. They've been together since before last Christmas - I helped push 'em together, even."

"Oh! Oh. Ok. I'm glad, um, I mean I didn't … ok."

"Hey. Seriously. It's all right."

Cassie nodded tightly, and Jon sighed. He didn't like talking about this sort of stuff, but it was making things awkward with Cassie, and he didn't want that. The feeling of how much he didn't want things to be awkward between them washed over him and before he could think about it he was talking.

"Back when I was first made," he lowered his voice and leaned in close to Cassie. "Yeah, that was a really rough time. Actually, lots of things were really rough, but Sam was one of them. I've had six years to work through things. It wasn't easy, but I purposefully set aside everything about my old life. It's a little tender, but it's like …"

Jon paused for a moment, searching for the words. His brain was catching up to his sudden flow of words and now just wanted to finish the topic.

"That boy you dated in high school for a while. The one who …"

"Dominic," Cassie quickly supplied.

"Yeah. You guys were serious for a while, and when you two broke up it hurt, and you might still think of him fondly -"

Cassie glared.

"Or maybe not fondly, but if you ran into him again today, it might be a bit awkward but it wouldn't bring back all the feelings. Same for me and Sam."

Cassie nodded, more normally this time, and Jon breathed a sigh of relief. Now he could shut up.

They sat next to each other, a more comfortable silence between them as the muted sounds of conversation and clinking glasses surrounded them.

"So," Jon finally said.

"So?"

"So. Dominic."

"Oh shut up!"

Cassie shoved him with her shoulder hard enough that he had to grip the bar to avoid toppling off. Jon grinned as he nudged her back and they settled back to their drinks and conversation. Cassie's voice had been back to its regular silvery self and their arms pressed together felt good. They were back to normal.

The evening was already golden to Jon's mind when he saw in the large bar mirror, the rest of the group arrive. Vala and Trisha were arm in arm as they came in laughing at something, and Daniel's expression was one of dazed bemusement. Teal'c followed behind with Sam and Mitchell bringing up the rear.

Even in the reflection, Jon could see the happiness on Teal'c face, and … Teal'c eyes were lowered rather than scanning the room as was the security-conscious Jaffa's habit. Was he? He was! He was checking out Trisha's six!

'_Wonders never cease! Never thought I'd see the day when Teal'c was checking someone's ass!_'

Jon chuckled. "The gang's all here!"

Cassie turned on the bar stool with a smile to see them led to the reserved group of tables. Her face suddenly took on a shocked look. She looked at Jon with her mouth hanging open.

"Trisha and, and …"

'_Wow! She's good! Must be a women's intuition thing to pick it up that quickly._'

"Yup! What a surprise! They make a great fit. They're both warrior to the core, but with enough differences to make it interesting."

Cassie gave him an odd look. "Warrior to the core? I wouldn't have exactly described … well, yeah, I guess so, sort of. Wow. What a shock! I guess she really wasn't interested in Daniel after all."

Jon grabbed his beer and stood up, walking toward the table. "Nah, she met him briefly when he swung by the Alpha site," Jon returned Daniel's wave when the archaeologist spotted him. "But they never clicked. When Teal'c came …"

Cassie grabbed his arm and tugged him to an abrupt stop, and hissed in his ear. "Wait a minute! What are you talking about?"

"Ummm, Trisha. She met Daniel -"

"No, not Daniel! What about meeting Vala?"

"What? She never met Vala until today."

"Then she and Vala aren't, you know, an item?"

"Who and Vala?"

"Trisha!"

"Trisha and Vala?"

"Yes, you idiot! Trisha and Vala!" Cassie had dragged him back to the bar while hissing her questions at him.

'_Quantum Mirror. I've gone through the Quantum Mirror somehow. What's going on?!_'

"What about Trisha and Vala?"

Cassie punched his shoulder.

'_What is it with her punching me today?_'

"You said Trisha was with someone, and when they came in, Trisha _and_ Vala were arm in arm. Are you telling me that Trisha's not with Vala?"

Jon suddenly saw where the confusion came from. He retraced their conversation and began to chuckle.

"No. Trisha isn't with Vala. Trisha - " giggles began interrupting Jon's speech. "Trisha and," giggle, snort, "Vala? You though," cough, "that … that …"

Jon could barely speak as he tried to suppress the laughter.

"Jon! What are you? Who? If not Vala? Jon!"

Jon continued laughing as she again thumped him on the shoulder, but tried to rein it back in as she marched over to the table and sat down with a huff much to the rest of the table's befuddlement.

Jon walked over, chuckles still rolling through his chest.

"Hey there campers," he greeted them with a wave.

The return greeting was puzzled, but cheerful.

"What's going on, Jon," Daniel asked.

'_Yup, Danny would be the one to go ahead and ask the obvious question._'

"Oh, Cassie and I were -"

"Not a word Jon!"

Jon grinned. "So does that mean I have some counter-blackmail material on you, now?"

Cassie stuck her tongue out at him and turned to the others. "I just had a really blond moment. This guy," she jerked her thumb at Jon and gave him a fierce glare, "thought it was funny."

Jon grinned at the rest before sitting down next to Cassie and pulled her into a one-armed hug.

"What are friends for if not to laugh at blond moments?"

Sam leaned over, "Don't worry about it Cassie. Let me tell you about what Jack did at P3X-"

"Ack," Jon interrupted in alarm. "If you bring that up, then I'm telling what you were doing after you drank the -"

"Oh, no!" Daniel jumped in. "I think mutually assured destruction by means of embarrassing stories is definitely off the table for tonight."

Jon noticed his eyes frantically flicking over toward Vala who was leaning in with glee evident at the prospect of piles of embarrassing stories, probably to be used on Daniel.

Jon and Sam exchanged glances and grinned. "Ok, ok." Sam laughed and leaned back. "We'll spare everyone death by embarrassment."

"Oh bother," Vala crossed her arms with a pout and Daniel gave a heavy sigh of relief.

Mitchell leaned across the table and reached out his hand to Jon. "Sir, the rest of them filled me in on you earlier today. It's good to meet you … again, er, sort of. Eh, sorry. It's a bit confusing on how exactly to say things."

Jon shook his hand, and appreciated the calluses in all the right places and the strong grip. The guy had done well with the team and kept them safe.

"Don't sweat it. I've been living it for six years now and I'm still not sure how to say things."

Sam picked up her beer and toasted, "Here's to Gate weirdness!"

"To Gate weirdness!"

* * *

Jon jumped from a solid sleep at the sound of a crash.

It took a split second to recall where he was. Teal'c house. Evening out went late. Everything was good. No attacks. Invader?

Jon was half-way across the room with a pistol pulled quickly from his duffel bag, and a black combat knife pulled from under the bed.

A second crash sounded like something had smashed through a wall in the direction of Teal'c's room. It wasn't a window being broken or a door slamming, so it probably wasn't a home robbery. A Ba'al clone?

He poked his head out into the short hallway, but didn't see anything. Teal'c was surely awake too. Trisha couldn't have worn him out _that_ much!

A deep groan came from Teal'c room and Jon swore under his breath. Whoever it was had gone straight for Teal'c room. Trisha was there too.

Jon edged up to the doorway and listened for a moment. A thump, perhaps like a body being dropped to the floor. A couple whispered words were barely audible. The door was closed, but there was a soft glow coming under the door, probably from the many candles Teal'c prefered to have lit.

Jon tucked the knife into the waistband of his shorts and gripped the pistol with both hands.

With a last deep breath, Jon stepped up and smashed the door with a barefooted kick that shattered the door. He dove forward, low and tucking over his shoulder as he rolled up to a knee, weapon trained on …

A very naked Trisha.

A very naked Teal'c.

A very naked and aroused Teal'c.

A very naked and aroused Teal'c whose seated body was embedded part way into the wall.

A very naked Trisha was standing, legs apart, before Teal'c's head with his large hands were holding her waist.

Both of them looked at Jon with nearly identical expressions of curiosity.

Jon slowly stood up from his crouch and lowered his pistol.

He coughed and looked away.

'_Oh my god. I'm never going to be able to un-see that._'

"Right. Sorry to interrupt. My mistake. Carry on."

Jon cleared his throat and quickly stepped back out of the room.

He was nearly to his room when a deep, bellowing laugh began to vibrate the house accompanied by a rich contralto laugh.

Jon slammed the door behind him, slapped the safety back on his gun, and thrust it down into his bag. He could still hear their laughter. He plopped down on the bed and pulled the pillow down tightly over his head.

'_I need a new place to spend the holiday!_'


	32. Drinks to the Rescue

**Got it double-checked for stupid errors! No guarantee there aren't errors, but hopefully no stupid ones. Yay!**

**Ah ... the 'morning after'. Poor Jon! :-D**

* * *

Jon woke up to soft words speaking outside his room. He could tell dawn hadn't quite arrived, but the barely grey window suggested the sky was letting the world know the dawn was soon to arrive.

With a sour twist to his mouth he pulled himself out of bed and pulled on sweats and a long sleeved t-shirt. He could tell that both Teal'c and Trisha were moving through the house and had probably heard him moving because their voices were no longer lowered.

'_Not gonna be embarrassed._'

As he stepped out, he could see the other two pulling on boots, wearing camo pants and obviously layered clothing.

'_Not gonna be embarrassed._'

"What are you guys heading to?"

"We shall train by running in snow across the mountains."

Teal'c face was as expressionless as usual with a hint of eagerness for the training.

Trisha on the other hand …

'_Not gonna be embarrassed!_'

"Yup. We wanted to work off a little energy since we were interrupted last night."

"Hey! How was I to - !"

Jon shut his mouth and glared at Trisha. She was trying to draw him in to set him up.

"After that we're going to hit some of the MMA schools in town," Trisha continued with twinkling eyes. "Teal'c wants to delve a little deeper into grappling. I need the work too. Teal'c pinned me pretty easily last night."

Jon tensed himself in preparation. Something was coming.

'_Not gonna be embarrassed!_'

"I was like putty in his hands. He thoroughly dominated me. I've never been stretched like -"

'_Nope! Can't take it!_'

"So! Yeah, a workout sounds like a great idea. I might grab a run myself as well." Jon started walking toward the kitchen. "I'll want some breakfast first, though. You know, gotta keep up my energy!"

"I got my protein last night."

Jon's forced casual walk suddenly turned into a run to the kitchen.

"See you guys! Have fun! Enjoy," he called over his shoulder.

"Trish'a, you are an evil woman."

Jon could almost hear the grin in Teal'c voice, no matter how expressionless his face might be.

After they left, Jon did go for a run. Colorado Springs itself didn't have much snow on the ground at the moment, and the running was a delight in the early dawn. There were several longer running trails around the city, and he made his way over to one, slowly warming up his muscles on the way.

Once on the trail he took off, stride lengthening and speeding. The cold, thin air chilled his skin, but the exertion quickly overcame the chill as he worked his way up the hills around the city. The exercise let his mind wander and he found himself grinning at the events of last night and this morning - when the others weren't around, he did admit to himself that it was funny.

He also began working through some of the things he had considered about Teal'c concerns about the fate of the Jaffa people. He had done a little research at the Alpha site's library, but it was a limited resource. He could see Teal'c's concern, though - weaker nations never fared well when dealing with much stronger nations. A fractured people, dealing with a powerful Earth on a planet by planet basis would be marginalized, no matter how well-intentioned Earth might be. And Jon wasn't about to assign good intentions to any of Earth's politicians or businesses.

He again rolled over the details - Earth's fractured nations not working as a unified whole when dealing with the galaxy would probably help the Jaffa. The sheer size of the galaxy with millions of habitable planets would help.

Industrial output, though, would put Earth over the top compared to the Jaffa. They weren't an engineering sort of people. Economics. Conflict. Travel times. Planetary resources. Technology.

Jon's thoughts kept him distracted as he ran and before he knew it the miles had fled by and he was reaching the Black Forest area. He started taking some roads working his way over toward his old living area. A few minutes later he was passing by Jack's house and he noticed Carter's car in front of Jack's house, though Jack's car was nowhere around. He wondered if she was preparing the house for the next day's party.

A tightness filled his throat and he hurried on. He was glad for them, he really was, but it still ached a little. Knowing that Sam and Jack were happy together was wonderful, but …

He pushed on. He decided a few miles further out of his way wouldn't be a bother and he would swing by Carter's house. He hadn't seen it in years. Cassie was there. Nostalgia. He'd now seen his old house, so might as well see Carter's place too. See if she had made any changes. Yup, see if there were any changes. Cassie was asleep there, so no one would know he was by there.

The path between the two houses was still familiar to him - he had run and driven that path many times. He smiled at the memories of his old self - so carefully suppressing his feelings, but still running or driving past Carter's house as often as he could.

'_I was such a lovesick puppy. I wonder how obvious I was to people back then._'

It was after eight thirty when he saw Carter's house and he decided he would use that as his halfway point. He slowed to a jog and then walked to a stop in front of her house and looked at it for a moment. It had gotten a new roof and a fresh painting since he'd last seen it, but otherwise it was much as he remembered it. Cassie was probably sleeping inside. Jon smiled at the thought.

He used her mailbox to lean against to stretch out his legs. He hadn't appreciated flexibility when he had been young the first time around, but now that he had the option again, he worked on his flexibility more. He was about to take off again when he heard the door open. He looked up to see Cassie in the doorway.

"Jon, what are you doing here so early?"

Jon grinned as made his way up the driveway toward her. He assumed she would still be asleep, but it was a nice surprise to see Cassie there.

"Out for a run. What are you doing up so early?"

"What are you suggesting? It's nearly nine."

He raised an eyebrow at her.

"Shut up. I had two seven o'clock classes last semester and I had to get into the labs before those classes since they always filled quickly afterwards."

"So you've turned into a morning person?"

"Blah. No! But my body apparently didn't get the memo that I'm on vacation. Want to come in? Sam set the coffee pot last night. Hot coffee just finished."

Jon could feel his smile widen as he walked up. Cassie looked fantastic in pink flannel sleeper pants and a tight t-shirt. The cold air was having an obvious effect and Jon jerked his eyes back up to her face.

"Sounds fantastic."

He gave her a hug as he came in and he could feel her ….

'_Dang it Jon, stop it!_'

He quickly let go and stooped to start taking his shoes off. When he straightened, Cassie was looking at him with an odd expression on her face. Jon's own face began to flush.

'_Oh god. She noticed that I … oh damn it Jon!_'

"Jon?"

He tried to keep himself from wincing. "Yeah?"

"Did you just run from Teal'c's house to here?"

Jon's relief almost left him weak-kneed.

"Um, yeah, well, I swung past Jack's place. Wondered if he'd done any changes. You know."

Cassie's eyes widened a little.

"And what route did you take to get there?"

"Umm, you know where Teal'c place is, over by the Garden of the Gods?" Cassie nodded. "I took some trails around there and then up past the Academy and then over."

Cassie's eyes became saucers and her eyes goggled a bit.

"But that's … that's gotta be, at least fifteen miles, maybe twenty with a roundabout route! And lots of hills! When did you leave?"

"Er, seven. Something like that. How about some coffee to warm my fingers?"

Her scrutiny left him a little uncomfortable. He enjoyed running, heck, exercise of all types was great, and the years of discipline gave him an edge in pushing his body. That was all.

"Yeah, sure. That's just a … heck of a morning run."

She gave a little shake of her head and moved off. "Come on, let's get you warmed up."

Jon relaxed at the kitchen bar, sipping on the coffee with Cassie next to him, watching out the back windows. Though she hadn't noticed any reaction from him, something he was extremely happy to note, he couldn't shake the feeling that he'd felt for a moment when he'd hugged her.

Her breasts pressed against his chest, the nipples hardened from the cold air - he'd felt a strong burst of attraction rush over him. She was an adult. She was very mature for her years as well, hell, she was was just plain mature - he knew sixty-year-olds who weren't as reliable and trustworthy.

But, still! She was Cassie! He might notice her looks, but to be attracted to her? No, it wasn't possible - well, ok, it was obviously possible, Jon admitted to himself, but it wasn't right. He wasn't fit for anyone. He didn't fit anywhere, really. He had too many hangups - memories of too many years wrapped up in a too-young body and involved in things he couldn't share with anyone. That sort of messed up situation didn't fit with anyone. He wouldn't wish himself on anyone, especially not Cassie.

"A penny for your thoughts."

He was pulled from his thoughts with a jolt and looked down at the empty cup.

"Oh, well," he pulled out the first thing he could think of. "The Jaffa. Teal'c is worried about them. As a people going into the future."

"Hmmm, I think those thoughts are worth more than a penny. What's his concern?"

Jon grabbed onto the topic to pull his thoughts away from where they had been. He began relating to her Teal'c's concerns, along with his own and Trisha's promise to help him with more considerations.

Cassie listened and asked questions, pulling Jon's own thoughts forward. Jon appreciated the chance to put his thoughts into more concrete words and poured more forth, wanting to be prepared to give his brother in arms the best advice he could. Her questions and counterpoints poked some holes in some thoughts and had him re-phrasing and refining others.

He kept getting distracted by the sun's rays through the window turning her hair a golden honey.

'_It's obviously been a long time since I've gotten laid. Come on, Jon. Focus._'

"Native Americans, Aborigines, South American tribes, India, eastern Asia - all of them show a pattern of a much more powerful people moving in, not always even in classical conquest patterns, and the less powerful people being exploited or marginalized at best. The Jaffa have several advantages those Earth cultures didn't have, but there is still the basic …"

Slowly the morning sun rose as they talked on.

The sound of a door opening interrupted them and Jon jumped. He glanced at his watch and almost swore - noon. He hadn't meant to stay here for this long.

"Cassie? We're back."

Cassie stood and walked toward the front of the house, but Jon stayed back. He'd only meant to come in for a little. He certainly hadn't wanted …

"Uncle Jack!"

Jon's eyes widened for a moment and then he sighed. '_Of course he's here too._'

He picked up his cup and carried it with him as he went to join them. He saw Cassie hugging Jack, and Jack with a big grin on his face. Carter was the first to notice Jon.

"Jon? What?"

"Jon?"

Jack and Sam stood with Cassie. Cassie jumped away from hugging Jack.

"Hey, I was taking a jog and decided to swing by the old haunts. I hope you don't mind."

Sam's face shifted from puzzlement to a welcoming smile.

'_God, but that smile still lights things up._'

"Of course I don't mind! You're always welcome."

Jack stepped forward and held out his hand to Jon. "Welcome back to Earth, Jon."

"Thanks. Welcome back from Washington."

Jack made a face. "Bunch of backstabbing, idiotic, penny-pinching, wasteful morons. I'd rather face a platoon of goa'uld. They're more honest."

Jon smirked. "Better you than me."

"Watch it pup."

"Whatever, geezer."

Sam walked up and gave Jon a hug. "Break it up, you two. Jon, would you like some lunch?"

Jon shook his head.

"Sounds delightful, but I really need to get back. Teal'c and Trisha are going to be back soon. They went out to run up snowy mountains or something crazy like that."

"Crazy, huh?" Jack's eyes had a twinkle that suddenly had Jon nervous. "Sort of like riding Stinker?"

Jon winced and Jack positively chortled.

'_Nosy old General._'

"Stinker?" Both Sam and Cassie looked at Jon with interest.

"Well, I've got to get going if I'm gonna meet up with the two T's."

Jon pulled on his shoes and didn't bother to lace them.

"Jon, who's Stinker?"

"I'd love to tell the story, but I've got to get going!"

Jon lifted a hand as a wave as he took off running again. He wasn't running away, he told himself, he just really needed to finish his run. That's all.

'_Stupid ol' General._'

* * *

Cassie stood up again, closed the genetics paper she had open before her, and wandered into the kitchen. She couldn't concentrate. Normally she loved to pour over everything that came out in genetics research, jotting down ideas of her own. Now, though, Jack and Sam had left the house to her and she felt restless.

She had been invited along, but she was certain Jack and Sam would enjoy the time together more if she wasn't with them. Sam had nodded understandingly when Cassie had insisted she just wanted to curl up with some research papers. Jack had looked at her like she was nuts and started to argue, but Sam had shushed him.

"Enjoy yourself," she'd said. "I don't think we'll be back. We'll see you tomorrow."

Sam had hurried the words out a bit and Cassie had held in a smile. It was good to see them together, finally.

But as perfect as the opportunity to get some good reading in, she couldn't concentrate on the papers.

Jon.

She had worked hard to set him aside over the last several months. She'd cut her communications with him to a minimum. She'd accepted a couple outings with friends and flirted with nice guys. She'd tried a date with a guy, but she'd not felt any attraction at all, and she'd left it at just that one date. She'd even gotten friendly with Vanessa - it had helped her jealousy that she knew Jon wasn't going to be calling her up. Jon's letters had caused far more heart palpitations than they should have, but she'd ruthlessly forced herself to read them just once and then stuff them away.

And now.

Last night at O'Malley's had been absolutely magical. They'd talked and laughed. She would have sworn the entire evening was glowing in a golden haze. Her resolution to keep a distance from Jon hadn't even registered.

And then he'd shown up this morning. She'd caught a glimpse of movement outside the window as she was stumbling out of her room to the smell of coffee and had nearly decided she was dreaming when she saw who it was.

And that hug! And then talking over coffee for hours. She had never seen that serious and intellectual side of him - politics, economics, psychology, history - he'd seemed to be knowledgeable on all of the topics. She'd just been fooling herself thinking that she had been getting over him. He was wonderful!

And now she had to try to get herself back under control and restart the process of setting Jon aside. Her dreams were just that - foolish dreams.

Her phone began to sing and she rushed back to the living room to snatch it up.

"Hello?"

"Cassie, darling! We are going out! Get ready for a night on top of the town!"

"Wha-? Um." The excited voice of Vala threw her for a loop.

"The boys have gotten together for a guys night out at Teal'c's house. So we're going to color the town red! Get a nice dress on and we'll be there in twenty minutes!"

"Vala -"

But the phone beeped that the call had ended.

"Wow." Cassie puffed out her cheeks - it had only taken fifteen seconds and it had been over the phone, but she still felt like a tornado had just spun her around.

She looked around at the papers. Four papers. Only one had been opened in the last hour. Yeah - heading out was definitely a good idea. She had a few nice outfits she kept here at Sam's house and she rushed to go dig them out. Going out was exactly what she needed or else she would just be sitting here stewing all night.

By the time Vala and Trisha arrived, Cassie was dressed and putting on some makeup, her hair pulled back into a bun with a favorite set of chopsticks holding it.

"In here!" She could hear the door close and their voices approach.

"Day-um girl! We're gonna turn this town upside down!"

Trisha was dressed in a light tan dress that hugged her curves well, and flattered her fit physique. Vala had a black leather pants and bustier-style top that Vala was absolutely rocking, but Cassie was pretty sure _only_ Vala could carry it off.

Cassie had picked out a blue dress that was snug and came down to her knees, but had a slit most of the way up her thigh. She hadn't been sure how much to dress up, and had jacket that would tone it down if need be, but now that she saw the other two, she wondered if she hadn't dressed up enough.

"Cassie, you've got to tell me the truth," Vala said. "I don't trust Trisha as far as I could throw her. She tells the most _outrageous_ lies. She tells me that it's a custom among the Taur'i males to buy drinks for women in bars and clubs."

Cassie burst out laughing.

"_Trisha_ tells stories? Ha! Well in this case, she's telling the truth. It's part of the flirting rituals here on Earth."

Vala's eyes positively glowed, and Cassie wondered if there might not be a little of the goa'uld eye chemicals left over even after all these years.

"Oh, we're going to have so much fun!"

Cassie went back to finishing her eyeliner. "What are the boys up to?"

"Teal'c is asking their advice on political matters," Trisha informed her. Cassie thought back to her long talk with Jon. "Jaffa nation worries? Jon mentioned that today."

"You talked with Jon today?"

Vala's tone was far too interested for Cassie's comfort. She gave a last swipe to her eyelashes and quickly popped the brush back in its bottle.

"Yeah, just a bit. I'm all ready! Let's go turn this town upside down!"

She wasn't sure how much her deflection had worked based on Vala's expression, but they were on their way out the door and the woman didn't press.

Colorado Springs didn't have the crazy night life that surrounded Stanford, but it still had plenty to offer. Being two days before Christmas it was a little slow, but Vala seemed to draw a crowd. Soon the three women were cheerfully accepting drinks and the club which had been only partially filled seemed fuller somehow - Vala's outgoing personality and outrageous statements quickly gathered a crowd, mostly men, which was loudly laughing and shouting in glee.

Cassie found herself mostly talking with several guys who were home from college for the holiday. They were fun, but she couldn't help comparing them with Jon - they seemed so young, somehow, and not nearly as interesting. But, definitely fun, and she enjoyed the attention, even if she did wish Jon were there.

Trisha tapped her arm and pulled her away from her conversation, "Sorry boys, I need to borrow her for a minute!" Trisha had gathered a bit of a court herself, and it took them a minute to work their way through the crowd. Vala seemed to somehow be simultaneously entertaining and overwhelming everyone around her. Cassie giggled as a man suddenly spewed his drink as Vala said something that set off an explosion of laughter in the people around her.

They made their way over to the lady's room and the relative quiet seemed a sudden oasis of calm.

"Whew! I hope Vala doesn't eat too many of them. I haven't really spent any time with her before now," Cassie said as she started touching up her makeup. "She's a force of nature."

"Naw, sugar. They're safe from her. It's Daniel that's going to have to watch out tonight."

"Daniel? As in Dr. Jackson?"

"Sure! You didn't notice them last night?"

Cassie certainly had, but Vala had been pretty outrageous with several people - it just seemed to be … _her_.

"Yeah, but I didn't realize she had a thing going with Daniel."

"It's not going yet, but it's not for her lack of trying. Daniel's not an easy guy to bag."

"He couldn't be harder than Teal'c! How did you and he get together?" Cassie was curious - it had taken her nearly half the night to figure out it was Teal'c that Trisha was there to see. All the signals were there, but she just hadn't thought Teal'c would be interested in … well anything other than fighting.

"He's a rare man. We … click. We're both … oh, focused. Don't let that stoic part fool you - stoicism isn't the core of him. He has honor and passion at his core - the stoicism is his focus. But, he let's loose the passion when it's appropriate."

A _very_ satisfied look stole over Trisha's face and her eyes lost focus for a second.

"Sounds like Daniel's not the only one who might need to look out tonight." Cassie giggled and then almost clapped her hand over her mouth - the drinks must have loosened her up.

"Hell yes. But he won't need to look out - he can hand himself just fine. I'm almost out of tricks to keep him on his toes. The Jaffa have some of the most outrageous..." Trisha suddenly laughed and set down her lipstick. "Ok Cassie - you and Jon talk some, right? Well, if he ever gives you a hard time, ask about him bursting in on me and Teal'c, gun drawn. We got a bit rough and tumble last night, and Jon woke up, grabbed a gun and came bursting in through the door ready to shoot!"

Trisha laughed at Cassie's widened eyes. "You and Teal'c were … you know … yeah … and Jon …?"

"Oh god! You should have seen his face! His jaw dropped to the floor and he just sort of gaped. Then his face went absolutely beet red and he stammered out an apology and bolted out the door! Oh you should have seen it!"

Cassie burst out laughing at the images brought to mind. "Oh poor Jon! He .. he must have been so embarrassed!"

"You should have seen him the next morning," Trisha laughed. "He could barely meet our eyes!"

"And you're going to do it to him again tonight! Trish! You're so evil!"

"Damn straight! The guy is fifty years old. He can take it - we certainly aren't worried about him."

Cassie giggled. "It's hard to remember sometimes in that yummy body!"

Trisha smiled and looked at Cassie in surprise. "Yeah. It … is sometimes, isn't it? He certainly is a prime piece of man" She shook her head. "Come on, let's go rescue those guys from Vala."

Cassie followed her out, giggling as she went. Poor Jon!

It was shortly after midnight when the three of them made their way out of the club. The three of them staggered a little. Cassie could tell she was out and out drunk and she didn't care. This was so much fun! Trisha hadn't drunk much, but Vala had pounded down an almost unending line of shots for over two hours. She wasn't as drunk as Cassie, but Cassie didn't hold that against her.

"Oh my god, Vala, I can't believe you said that!"

"What? It was the easiest way to, what's the word - excavate? Dig out ourselves from their attentions."

"But you said we're about to head back to our hotel for a, a" Cassie couldn't help giggling at the remembered expressions on the faces, "For a 'lesbian orgy'! God Vala, where do you come up with this stuff?!"

"Oh come on, Cassie. Earth men are no different from alien men in that regard. If anything Taur'i are too stuffy."

Vala punched Trisha's shoulder. "This girl knows! Jaffa have got some crazy stamina and strength, and they have exactly zero inhibitions when it comes to sex!"

Trisha smiled, white teeth flashing. "No kidding! I always thought I was experimental, but Teal'c got all these weird techniques that I don't think even the Kama Sutra ever thought of."

Cassie would have normally cringed at the bluntness, but she realized, it was silly to be embarrassed about stuff like this. It was totally natural! People should talk about it more!

"You two totally have to tell me some of this stuff. I haven't had sex even once yet! I want all the help I can get!"

Both Vala and Trisha turned to her in a surprised unison. "What?"

"You can't be serious, girl! You're gorgeous! Those guys in there were really interested!"

"Cassie," Vala grabbed her arm with a serious face, marred only slightly with a slur. "We need to fix this. Let's go back in there and grab one of those guys for you. Which one do you want?"

Cassie suddenly felt like crying. She didn't want one of them, she wanted Jon!

"I know who she wants," Trisha's voice was soft. "You're wanting a piece of Jon, aren't you?"

Cassie gave a little nod. She did. And it so completely couldn't ever happen, because he was like thirty years older than her. He would always just see her as a little kid.

"Jon? Really? Ok! We'll go grab Jon for you, then. Come on, he's over at Teal'c house."

"No!"

Cassie suddenly panicked at the thought.

"No, he's fifty years old, you know, inside, and he just thinks of me as a little kid."

"Uh oh. Hold on Vala." Trisha grabbed Vala's arm. "I think this is going to take a bit more than tying Jon up for Cassie to ravage."

Cassie couldn't help giggle a little.

"What's the problem," Vala queried. "Cassie you, you are a beautiful woman. There's no way Jon hasn't noticed. You've - you've got to be, *hic*, bold! That's how you handle men. Look at me - I'm going to tie Daniel up and get out my ath'atha."

Trisha was about to say something, but paused. "Ath'atha? I don't know what that is, but I want one."

"Of course, darling! Anything for you!"

Trisha turned back to Cassie. "Look Cassie, just because Jon has fifty years of memories in his head that doesn't mean he's attracted to fifty year old women. Sure, he's not going to be attracted to flighty and immature little girls, but you aren't flighty or immature. He's attracted to you - he's a guy and he has eyes.

"Vala's right. You've got to be direct, or else you're going to waste years just wishing from the sidelines. If you see something you want, you've got to go get it. If it doesn't work, oh well. If you've been honest and straightforward about it, there won't be any reason to be ashamed."

"Don't listen to her, Cassie. She's half Jaffa herself. Screw honesty and stuff. That way you can screw Jon!"

Cassie laughed.

"Guys like Teal'c, you can grab by the dick and be straightforward. Jon isn't that direct. Jack is crazy smart like a cat -"

"Fox."

"Yes, a fox. What's a fox? Oh never mind. Jon, you've got to maneuver into it. Make him crazy for you and _then_! Then you pounce on him!"

Cassie turned to Trisha. She was so lucky to have a couple friends like these two! They knew everything about men!

"What do you think? How can I get him to want me as a woman?"

Trisha had an amused expression. "Oh, don't get too crazy with your machinations. Vala here is an expert at cunning and trickery. You aren't in her league yet."

Vala flung herself on Trisha with a squeal! "You're so nice! I knew I liked you!"

Trisha returned the hug with a laugh. "Keep your strategies from getting too complicated. First you've got to get Jon to yourself. Then make sure he's obviously attracted - enough that there's no dodging the fact. Make sure there's no way that there's any excuse for him except that he's attracted to you. Then, you jump him as fast and as hard as you can - don't give him a chance to start second-guessing!"

"Ooo! Ooo! I know!" Vala was bouncing. "Trisha, you're going to put Teal'c through his paces tonight, right?"

"Damn straight, girl!"

Vala spun to Cassie. "Tonight you can start! Call Jon and warn him that Trisha is coming over on the path of war and he won't want to be there tonight. Invite him over to your place! Wear something sexy!"

A car pulled up next to them and Trisha opened the door for them and helped the two unsteady ladies into the vehicle before following them in.

"Three stops."

Vala pulled Cassie and began whispering as Trisha began giving the addresses to the driver. "I saw something you call a 'teddy' here on earth. It's nothing to do with a teddy bear. You Taur'i are so confusing with things. Do you know what it is?"

Cassie nodded. "Yes, but I don't have one."

Vala pouted. "Garters and a bust?"

Cassie shook her head again, and then stopped for a second. The world was swirling a little. "Nope. No bustiers. I haven't had any boyfriends to use them on."

Vala threw her hands up in the air, flopping back against the seat. "We need to take you to the Secrets store!"

"But what about tonight?"

Trisha had finished giving addresses and looked at Cassie with a doubtful expression. "I don't know if you're going to be up for anything tonight. Tonight, you'll just be starting on Jon."

"Of course she's going to be up for things tonight! She hardly had anything to drink, and your drinks here on Earth are so weak!"

Something about what Vala was saying seemed to ring an alarm in Cassie's head, but she couldn't think of what it was.

Trisha spoke up quickly. "Look, if nothing else, just a sexy pair of undies. You've got some, right?"

Cassie carefully nodded.

"Ok, text your boy. If he doesn't go over by himself, Trisha here will boot him out of the house and send him over. Make sure you're a temptress. A desuctress!"

"Seductress," Trisha corrected.

"That's what I said. A desuctress!"

Cassie texted Jon. She had to make sure he came over so she could spring her trap on him. And she had to be tricky. And direct. And not afraid of being tricky and direct about sex. No shyness!

_* Jon. Trisha is coming over to fuck Teal'c. *_

She giggled as she sent it. Mom had drilled into her not to sound stupid by swearing, but this was funny!

_* You don't want to be another there for a night. Come to my house and sleep with me for the night. *_

She paused. He might need some more incentive, but she didn't want to seem too obvious.

_* She said she use an ath'atha. I don't know what that is, but it sounds funny! It even types in funny! Ath'atha! Athatha! Athatha! *_

Jon was so hers! Hints of sexy ath'athas!

Her phone dinged.

_* You Ok? *_

Of course she was ok! He was so thoughtful to be thinking of her!

_* Of course! You're so nice! You think of me! *_

The car came to a stop and Trisha helped Cassie out of the car while Vala called out advice.

"Love you Vala! You two are the best friends a girl could have! Love you!"

She made sure to wave a lot. Vala and Trisha were her best friends and she wanted them to know it!

Trisha unlocked the door and helped Cassie in.

"Ok. I'm going to make sure Jon comes over. Ok?"

Cassie hugged her tightly.

"You're so good to me! Thank you! I won't forget you. And I won't forget Vala either. Make sure you tell her! I remember all her advice - sexy lan, lan, um, undies."

"That's right, Cassie. Go get those sexy undies on and wait in bed. Jon will be over before you know it."

Cassie spun to do that, but the house suddenly tilted and she stumbled until Trisha caught her arm.

"Whoa! I didn't think they had earthquakes here in Colorado."

"Yeah. Earthquakes all over. Come on, I'll help you to your room."

Cassie managed to get her dress off after Trisha left, and considered herself in the mirror. She was wearing pretty sexy underwear right now! She would use them. She'd be waiting at the door for Jon when he came in! With a blanket! Right there on the floor!

She pulled the comforter off her bed and pulled it unsteadily toward the front door and laid it out on the floor.

It looked pretty comfy there. She laid down on it, imagining Jon coming through the door.

Her eyes closed and a soft smile played at her lips as she went to sleep.

* * *

Jon was worried.

The night had gone well, very well in his opinion. He, Daniel, and Teal'c had spent hours talking of government and society. Teal'c seemed to feel much more hopeful. Now they were relaxing. Or at least Daniel and Teal'c were relaxing.

Jon had his phone gripped in his hand, worrying.

'_What the hell is going on with Cassie? And was she serious about Trisha coming over?_'

She hadn't responded to his last couple texts.

A soft knock came at the door, and a second later a series of strong pounds at the door.

Teal'c opened it to see Trisha and Vala stumble in.

"Daniel darling! My dearest! Come! Let us be off! We have much to do and the night is young."

Daniel looked at her with amusement and … affection, Jon decided. He wasn't sure what was holding the archaeologist back, but he was pretty sure he was falling for the alien smuggler.

"Well, I wish you a good night Teal'c. Jon. I'll make sure this one gets safely tucked in."

"Good night, DanielJackson."

Daniel put an arm around Vala's waist and began heading out the door. Vala's hand slid down and grabbed Daniel's butt. Daniel jumped and almost dropped Vala.

"Vala!"

"Daniel!"

Their arguing voices faded as the door closed, and the remaining three shared a grin with each other. Teal'c just quirked a corner of his mouth, but yeah - same thing.

Jon looked at Trisha with some trepidation to see how she might be looking at Teal'c. It was 0100, but he didn't think he was tired enough to sleep through another energetic night from these two.

Trisha dragged her eyes off Teal'c. "Jon, Cassie got a bit much to drink. Vala … well, Vala can drink an absolutely insane amount. I've never seen anyone drink that much. Period. And she's still standing. Must be something about having been a former host." Trisha shook her head in awe. "Anyway, Cassie doesn't have that advantage. Would you mind going over and keeping an eye on her? Make sure he actually got into bed?"

'_An out! Yes!_'

"Yeah, it would be my pleasure. In fact, Sam wouldn't mind if I grabbed her couch. I'll grab a couple clothes and just stay the night."

Jon was not at all surprised that neither Trisha or Teal'c resisted.

Ten minutes later Jon was standing in the open door of Sam's house. In shock.

Cassie was spread out on a comforter, on the floor, wearing nothing but a very lacy set of bra and panties.

Jon closed the door behind him in a daze, staring at the sight before him, barely illuminated by the faint night lights throughout the house.

Cassie's pale skin glowed in sharp contrast with the comforter's fabric. Her hair was splayed out in a dark spray about her head, highlighting her face.

'_So beautiful. My angel._'

He hadn't realized he'd moved, but he was stroking her cheek with the back of his fingers. He knew he should be wrapping her up in the comforter and putting her to bed, but he couldn't seem to force himself to stop stroking the soft skin of her cheek.

He slowly traced the outline of her jaw and then ran his finger along her lower lip. He could feel his heart beating wildly, up in his throat, surging through his body.

Cassie gave a soft hum and shifted. Jon jumped back with a muffled curse.

'_Jon, what the hell are you doing? Lock your shit up!_'

He slapped himself across the face. "Get it together, man," he muttered.

He quickly stepped forward and began folding the comforter around her. She gave another soft hum and Jon could feel his cock twitch.

'_You're a dirty bastard. She's drunk off her ass, and it shouldn't even be crossing your mind!_'

He stepped back, putting the couch between them, and paced back and forth in agitation.

'_She's a pretty girl - _' Jon's body seemed to react. '_Ok, ok, beautiful woman. Of course I'd be … excited. And I'm probably just feeling alone. She's a friend. That's all. Feeling alone and in need of some company. Haven't been laid in well over a year. Hormones. Yeah, that's it. Just … yeah._'

Jon let out a breath and he stepped back around the sofa toward her. Her face had a light smile on it and Jon paused, just looking at the sight with a small smile gracing his own lips. A wave of warmth rolled over him.

He shook his head.

"Damn. Who are you fooling, huh? You're not some ignorant kid. Don't lie to yourself."

He grown to know himself at least a little better over the decades.

He'd felt this with Sarah. It hadn't been love at first sight, but that feeling of love and adoration had come pretty darned quickly.

He'd felt this with Sam. That had hit him like a ton of bricks the moment she had walked through the door to that briefing. He'd lied to himself for nearly a year, trying to tell himself it had just been an attraction for a beautiful woman, but deep down he'd known it was a lot more serious than that even as he told himself it was just lust. He'd been able to fool himself for a little while, but only a little while.

And now?

He looked at her and knew that what he wanted was her. Beautiful, young, Cassie. The first time he was twenty he might not have recognized it, but he knew himself better now.

Shaking his head at his own foolishness he carefully scooped her up off the floor and took a minute to hold her. He wasn't sure what he was going to do tomorrow, but for the moment he'd steal the little moment.

"Mmmm. Jon."

The soft words, barely more than a hum, set his stomach fluttering.

"Yeah, I'm here. Gonna take … put you to bed."

"You came."

"Of course I did."

She snuggled her head into his shoulder as he carried her into the guest bedroom and carefully set her down on the bed and pulled the blanket at the foot of the bed up over her and the comforter to help keep her covered.

She let out a soft groan of protest, and Jon could feel the rush of desire flood over him again, nearly staggering him. He turned and bolted to the door before carefully closing it behind him.

Jon sat down on the couch and rubbed his eyes.

His thoughts swirled around. What had triggered this? He'd known Cassie for years, and it just now hit?

No.

He thought of his behavior with her over the last few years. Staying in contact with her. Coffee. Flowers. Volunteering to go get her at the airport. Taking her to a nice dinner. Long talks. Stopping in front of Sam's place, knowing she was there.

"Sometimes you can be a real idiot, Jon. Excuses for everything. Lying to yourself all over again. Hmph. So much for age giving wisdom or understanding. I'd swear you really are fourteen sometimes.

"So. What do you do about this?"

The dark form sat on the couch until the coming of dawn began to warm the sky.


	33. The Morning After

**Just a short chapter, but after I posted the last chapter and looked at what I had written next (but hadn't yet edited and posted) I realized there was a major hole - what happened the morning after?! So, I just wrote this up quickly. I like it.**

* * *

Cassie woke from her sleep slowly. Several times she had pushed herself back to sleep, but it was to the point where her bladder wouldn't let her stay in bed any longer. She groaned a little as she got up, her head pounding and her breasts aching. She unclipped her bra.

'_Reminder to self - don't go to sleep with this bra on._'

As she relieved herself, she pieced together the previous night. She shook her head at Vala's antics at the club. And their conversation about ath-somethings and sex. It certainly hadn't been the first alcohol-fueled conversation about sex and boys she'd had with girlfriends, but this one had been refreshingly interesting.

She'd even gotten their advice about ….

"Oh crap."

Her memories of talking about Jon were a bit fuzzy in details, but the fact that she'd admitted her feelings for him was crystal clear. She dropped her head into her hands.

"What do I do about this?"

Her face felt … oh yuck. She'd slept in her makeup too. This day was just getting better and better.

She tried to remember what she'd done after Trisha had walked her up to the house. Oh wait. Hadn't she texted Jon about something?

She shook her head. Trisha had made sure she had drunk plenty of water through the night, and she could tell her headache wasn't as bad as it could have been, but she still couldn't pull together the energy to go search for her phone.

A shower. She got up to start the shower and soon was relaxing with the hot spray restoring her feelings.

'_Let's see. Anything else embarrassing? Texted Jon something. I can probably blame that on drunk texting with Vala egging me on. Told Vala and Trisha all about Jon. Can't do much about that. Anything else? Oh, yikes!_' The vague memory of pulling blankets off her bed to … why had she pulled off the blankets? Something with Jon.

Her memories after Trisha walking her up to the house were fuzzy, but bits and pieces started emerging - she'd stripped and laid out in front of the door with the idea of waiting for Jon!

"Oh god. Cassie. You're such an idiot! What were you thinking?! Argh! Just count yourself lucky no one saw you."

'_Must have gotten cold or something during the night since I wound up back in bed._'

The shower did wonders in making her feel better, and she stepped out and pulled on a long t-shirt she liked to use as a sleeping shirt. Coffee. She needed coffee before anything else.

She was almost to the kitchen when she realized she could smell coffee already.

"Huh?"

She turned the corner and stopped. Jon was sitting at the breakfast bar - with no shirt - with a cup of coffee and no shirt and reading the newspaper. With no shirt. Looking at her. He didn't have a shirt on.

"Oh."

A range of emotions seemed to flicker over Jon's face and his eyes flickered over her body. He was looking at her, with, with … "Oh. Hi." She tugged down on her shirt. It fell to half way down her thighs, but she was acutely aware that she didn't have a stitch of clothing on under the shirt. It suddenly felt very, _very_ flimsy.

"Good morning."

Jon's voice sent tingles through her stomach and she bit her lip, trying to stay calm.

"Oh," she repeated again. "I - I didn't know anyone was here. Um, good morning."

"I've got the coffee going if you want a cup."

She pulled at her shirt again, and Jon's eyes dropped for a second before pulling back up to her face.

His face was a little flushed and suddenly Cassie could feel her own face beginning to glow with warmth.

"Um, thanks." She crossed to pull down a cup from the cupboard and resisted tugging down her shirt as she reached up to get the mug.

'_Just be calm. Pretend nothing's wrong and this can be just fine. He's behaving like it's nothing, so I'll do the same. It'll be just fine._'

She poured her cup and added her cream without looking at him. She didn't know if he was watching her or not. She looked up as she walked back over toward him, but he seemed to be thoroughly focused on the newspaper.

'_Of course he's interested in the newspaper - you're just a kid to him and he can't be interested._' A flash of memory of Trisha and Vala telling her otherwise popped through her mind but she pushed it aside. '_Regardless of what those two might say. What do they know? They were drunk._'

It was minute of sipping coffee in the morning sun and Cassie was beginning to relax when Jon spoke.

"So. I got a couple texts from you last night." There was a definite grin to his voice.

She groaned. "I'm sorry. I really am. I can't even remember what I said, but I'm blaming it on the alcohol and Vala."

Jon chuckled, the deep rumbling sending another wave of chills through her stomach and warming up parts of her that the coffee hadn't started to touch.

"It's no problem. I suspected something like that."

Cassie groaned.

"What's wrong? It's not a problem. Seriously."

"You must think I'm such an idiot. Getting drunk and texting you … whatever it was that I texted. Real mature of me." The words were bitter in her mouth. She should be trying to show him how mature she was, but instead she just managed to make an idiot of herself.

"Nah. A year or so before I was made, I, er, Jack got pretty toasted and walked over to Sam's house and sat on the yard all night. Fell asleep on the grass. Fortunately I woke up with the dawn and no one saw me, er, Jack. Ack! Whatever. The point is that maturity doesn't have anything to do with it. We manage to make asses of ourselves no matter how old we are."

Cassie couldn't help but smile at the story.

"Well, glad to hear that. Or maybe I'm not. It doesn't bode well for my future years."

Jon smiled and she felt glad to get past that one. But … there was more. She didn't know if she wanted to bring it up or not. It was best not to hide and worry about it. Trisha's advice about facing things directly probably applied here.

"Um, when did you get here?"

"Trisha suggested I come over to check that you were all right. I suspect she just wanted to get me out of the house so she and Teal'c could have the place to themselves. If the previous night was any indication, the house might not be standing any more."

"And when you came over …"

Jon looked at her for a moment, and Cassie knew without a doubt.

"Oh god. I - I - I can't explain. It … seemed like a good idea at the time. It was, I was, maybe a nest, or -"

Jon reached over and set his hand on her forearm, cutting off her ramble. Cassie could feel her whole body glow from the warmth of his touch. Her heart, already racing, suddenly began thudding so hard she worried about staying conscious.

"I was in just my boxers when I slept out there on Sam's front yard. Er, Jack was. I would never do something that embarrassing."

Cassie snorted a little and could feel her embarrassment fading a little. He was trying to put her at ease, she knew, and darn it all, it was working.

'_Just another indicator that he's so much more mature than me._'

Still, it was working, and he was leaving his hand on her arm. For all the embarrassment she felt, his hand there felt really, really good.

'_I'll bet his hands would feel good other places too._'

It slipped into her thoughts, and she suddenly flushed - thoughts of him running his hands over her skin, tweaking her breasts, sliding up between her legs.

She suddenly let out a breath she hadn't realized she had been holding. Her whole body was tingling.

She looked over at Jon, but he was back to looking at the paper. He withdrew her hand from her arm, and she missed the warmth.

'_Boldness. That's what Trisha said. Maybe with some misdirection, though, with Vala's advice._'

She reached over and grasped Jon's hand with her own, lacing her fingers through his larger hand. He looked at her and then their hands with surprise and licked his lips, his whole body tensing.

"Thank you, Jon. I was, um, well, thank you for everything."

She gave a squeeze and Jon's face flickered with uncertainty before he blew out a soft breath. His face softened as he looked at her.

"Any time. Always."

Jon went back to his paper and Cassie sipped her coffee, soaking in the morning sun.

And soaking in the feeling of their hands still intertwined together.

* * *

**A/N: And why do I like this little chapter? Because it manages to still leave you poor suckers, er, I mean, READERS in the dark about what Jon is thinking.**


	34. Christmas Eve Surprise

**Ahh, the anguished cries of tortured readers. Music to my ears and food for my soul.**

**Continuing the story now! Ready for some smokin' hot Cassie on Jon action?**

* * *

**Christmas Eve, Jack's House, Colorado Springs, CO**

Jon just knew everyone would see his nervousness.

The day had been perfect so far - spending most of it at Sam's house with Cassie. He had picked up a couple of Sam's books and had settled down in the couch next to Cassie as she read some research papers. It had been quiet, they'd talked as the mood hit them, they'd had lunch, they'd just been together, and Jon had been simultaneously ready to jump with joy and delightfully relaxed.

He had spent the previous night thinking, finally deciding that he would explore - see if there was any chance that Cassie would respond to his interest. He wasn't completely certain, but she'd held his hand, and he couldn't help but see that as a hopeful sign. Their morning and lunch together had been comfortable and relaxed. Well, more comfortable than relaxed - he'd gotten a case of the nerves a few times.

Tonight maybe, or maybe tomorrow, he'd talk with her. Somehow. Ask her out? How the hell did he do this? He could feel the nerves coiling in his stomach at the thought, but he wasn't about to pussy-foot around for years on end at this point. He'd done that, or _Jack_ had done that with Sam and he didn't want to go through that again.

He had ridden over with Trisha and Teal'c to Jack's house and they were about to walk up. His palms were sweaty, even in the cold air that was promising snow early the next morning.

"You ok, Jon?"

Trisha was looking at him with some concern, but Teal'c was standing with patience, a knowing look on his face.

"Ya, sure, you betchya."

He was actually more nervous about seeing Cassie than spending time with the team plus Jack.

'_Like a kid on his first date._' He had even worried about his outfit, as limited as his options were.

Trisha gave the door a quick rap as Jon and Teal'c stood behind her, carrying cake and drinks. They could hear several voices inside, cheerful and light.

Jack opened the door and grandly gestured. "Come in! Come in! Mi casa is your castle and all that."

Jack closed the door after them and clapped Teal'c on the back. "It's been a long time. You're looking good. Not a day over ninety."

"You too look in good health, JackO'Neill." The two of them shared a look that was a hair too long for casual friends, but Jon could see the mutual regard and honor being expressed.

Jack turned his attention to Trisha who was looking at him curiously. "And you must be Trisha. Nice to meet you."

Trisha shook his hand and grinned. "It's good to meet you again, general. Now that I know you're Jon, it's obvious, but I hadn't noticed before."

Jack's expression paused, working through her statement before laughing. "Yup, only I got all the good looks."

"Yeah, but I got the knees that don't pop."

Jack gave him a mock glare and then smiled. Jon was surprised at how easily Jack was smiling - it was weird. Even at a gathering of friends, he shouldn't have been smiling so freely.

"You've got a cake with you, so I'll let the smart ass comment pass." He turned to Trisha, "And call me Jack. Come in! Come in!"

Jon glanced around - the house was as he remembered. Oh little things had changed - carpet had been pulled out and hardwood put down. Kitchen remodeled. '_What the heck? Since when did I ever care about the kitchen?_' Fireplace was re-finished. But the core of it was still as he remembered it.

And yet - it was nice, but it wasn't home. Six-plus years had been enough that it didn't feel like 'home' and Jon gave a soft sigh of relief as he carried the cake into the kitchen.

"Stop that!"

Daniel's voice reached Jon as he walked through the door to see Daniel valiantly trying to keep a layered … something with lots of whipped cream away from Vala's hands. Cassie was looking on with a grin, apparently laying out a cheese tray, but currently thoroughly distracted by the two bickering in front of her.

"Daniel, darling, I can smooth it back out and no one will know!"

Daniel placed the concoction on top of the refrigerator and spun, arms spread wide to block, glaring at Vala. Vala shifted suddenly from trying to get past him to instead plastering herself on him. She snugged herself up against his chest, looking intently into Daniel's face.

"Daniel …."

Vala's voice dropped to a low, throaty growl as her arms came up around Daniel's neck. Jon almost laughed to see his friend's eyes grow in size, but Daniel's hands slid down to rest on Vala's hips and Jon laid a bet with himself about what his pants would look like when Vala pulled away.

She ran her fingers through his hair, "Daniel, don't you know what I love to do with whipped cream?"

Daniel's hands suddenly slid down over Vala's ass and his head began to dip. Vala moaned and then pulled back.

Jon realized she had slid a couple fingers through the whipped cream dessert behind Daniel's head. She dabbed a little on Daniel's nose.

Daniel suddenly looked confused, and went crosseyed looking at the tip of his own nose.

"I just love to lick it all up."

She stuck her whipped cream-covered fingers into her mouth and slowly pulled them back out. Daniel let out a moan and and his mouth dropped open.

Vala stepped back. "Thank you, Daniel!" She spun and walked out of the kitchen. "Hi Jon! Daniel here can do all sorts of wonderful things with whipped cream."

Jon just grinned and looked at Daniel. Yup, he'd won his little bet.

"Whu - I, um, Jon. Uh." Daniel shook his head and frowned. "Vala!"

Jon laughed as Daniel ran out.

"Poor Daniel. Vala's got him so turned around he doesn't know if he's coming or going."

Cassie laughed. "At the moment, I'd say he's pretty close to c-c-c, um, yeah, poor Daniel." She stuttered to a stop, face going red and Jon gave her an evil grin.

"What were you going to say? I thought you were going to say something else."

"What kind of cake did you bring?" Cassie's voice was slightly strangled.

Jon laughed as he set it down. "Smooth change of subject there. Vanilla, of course. I was glad to see my favorite bakery over on Hancock Avenue was still there. Best cake in the world!"

Jon fussed with the cake for a second as he tried to decide. '_Oh, come on Jon. Faint heart never won._' He turned to Cassie and gave a hug. His stomach twisted as he smelled her hair - a soft buttery scent that made him want to wrap her up with both arms a rub his cheek on her hair.

He forced himself to back off with just the quick squeeze. "Long time, no see. It's been what, five hours?"

"More like four," she corrected with a grin. "I can't figure out how we survived that long. Four whole hours!"

Her smile was cheeky and bold. Jon wanted to grab her up and kiss her senseless, but instead tried to keep his voice nonchalant. "Yup, withdrawal symptoms were setting in."

'_Come on, Jon. You can flirt better than this. What are you, fourteen?_'

"Let me help you with the platter here. What can I do?"

Jon and Cassie kept working on the last couple platters, side by side. Jon tried his hardest to not stare at her too much, but he wasn't sure he was succeeding. She had a dark green fitted sweater that had Jon's fingers twitching to caress.

He found himself measuring her every move, looking for hints. Would she be interested in starting a relationship with him? Was he just going to make things uncomfortable because she would turn him down?

'_My God, but I'm such a mess at this! It's been too long._'

She was standing closer than she had to - was that just being companionable as they put the platter together?

Wow, her smile was … wow. He couldn't remember what they were talking about. Her hazel eyes were sparkling up at him as she laughed. The sparkling laughter bubbled through his body, sending his heart rate soaring. His hands stilled as his eyes locked onto her lips. Cassie had stilled and her tongue flicked out, moistening her lips and Jon pulled in a breath as he began to lower his head.

"Finally got myself put togeth-, oh, hi Jon!"

Jon just managed to keep from jerking his head up. Sam had come into the kitchen, mostly focused on putting in an earring.

Jon had to swallow and clear his throat before answering. "Hey Sam. Merry Christmas!" He wanted to look at Cassie, but didn't want Sam to notice anything … odd.

"Merry Christmas, Jon!"

Sam was positively sparkling, but Jon couldn't pay much attention.

"Thank you so much, Cassie!"

Cassie's answering "You're welcome," seemed very subdued to Jon's ears and his heart began to sink.

'_Damn, did she notice? Is she upset? Bothered? Annoyed that we were interrupted?_'

He hoped so hard it was the last option.

"I appreciate the help, both of you, but prep is done, time to join everyone."

"I'll grab the platter," Cassie quickly volunteered before scooping up the tray to head into the living room.

"Would you help me with the last of the drinks," Sam asked.

"You betchya," Jon said absently as he watched Cassie leave.

He began to pick up a handful of bottles, still thinking of Cassie and what to do. Sam's hand on his arm pulled him from his reverie.

"Jon?"

"Hmm? Yeah?"

"Could you do me a favor and try to catch a couple minutes with Jack this evening? He has a few ideas that he would like to talk over with you, but he's … well, you certainly know him well enough," both Jon and Sam smiled at the statement, "but he's feeling a bit nervous about talking with you about something serious."

Jon smiled, finally pulling his attention fully onto Sam and what she was saying. "Of course, I'll make it easy for him to buttonhole me sometime. Any heads-up as to what it's about?"

"Gate related." Sam lowered her voice. "It's not official because the powers that be, Jack included, don't want to declare things to be all safe just to get surprised, but the Ori are likely finished as a major threat to the galaxy. Adria is gone, the Ori ships here are leaderless, and the Ori themselves are gone. They still have ships out there and are a danger, but as far as a threat to the galaxy - they're done."

Jon was smiling widely by the end of the news - there had been some rumors that the Ori had been given a big setback, but this was solid news.

"Fantastic! That's great news, but what does that have to do with me?"

Sam's voice resumed its usual tone. "Well, the Gate is going to become less military oriented. Eventually it'll even go public. Jack's working on various plans and would like to talk to you about participating."

Jon's eyebrows went up in surprise. Less military activity, eventually, was to be expected, but what exactly Jack had in mind wasn't something Jon could guess, in spite of their similarities.

"Sounds like a great sort of news. Changes, to be sure, but changes are good."

"I expect so."

"How about you? If that's so, what do you think you'll be doing?"

Sam shrugged and Jon was surprised. Uncertainty and Carter weren't friends, but she really didn't seem to be concerned.

"I don't know. The military isn't going to stop their involvement entirely, and it'll be a while before things like this begin to happen. There are some great space projects going on that I might be able to join if the Gate changes too much. Whatever happens, we'll be just fine."

A small smile flickered at Jon's lips, but he kept it clamped down. '_We. Carter is tossing that word around pretty confidently._' He checked her hands - no ring. '_I wonder how long it'll be before the old man proposes._'

"You'll have your choice of options. You'll do great, Carter."

She smiled directly, "Thanks, Jon."

They grabbed the bottles and walked out to a cheer from Mitchell.

Jon reflected that even her acceptance of compliments was getting better - no embarrassed doubt. Being with Jack was very good for her. He felt a little awkward, thinking of them together, but it wasn't painful. He had more than enough to worry about with Cassie.

Some new people had arrived - General Landry, his daughter, Dr. Lam, and a woman Jon didn't recognize but who seemed to be staying close with General Landry. '_I wonder if he got remarried._'

He looked around for Cassie, and saw her chatting with Daniel and Vala.

'_Ah well, don't hover. Wait until it comes together naturally._'

The evening rolled along smoothly and enjoyably, bringing in a few more people from the SGC, including to Jon's delight, General Hammond and his wife. As full as the house became, though, Jon couldn't help his constant awareness of both Jack and Cassie.

About ten, people began to drift away, saying their goodbyes and singing Christmas carols as they walked out into a light flurry of snow.

Jon was carrying an empty carafe of mulled apple cider to the kitchen when Jack walked up.

"So how are things at the Alpha site?"

"Well, you seem to actually read the reports from there since you heard about Stinker and me having a misunderstanding."

Jack smirked. "I don't read 'em all, but that one got passed around. There's even a security video of it."

Jon's eyes narrowed. "Dang. That's gonna be a pain."

"Better you than me."

Jon shook his head and grabbed a beer. "Well, I'll let you know that I don't feel too embarrassed about some of the things we did before Loki. Six years and different experiences and all that - you know, they separate me from the old me, and so it wouldn't bother me at all if some of those stories started leaking out."

It was Jack's turn to narrow his eyes. "Brat."

"Geezer."

They clinked bottles before taking a drink.

Jack settled back against the counter and Jon mirrored his position next to him, occasionally sipping his beer.

"You've probably picked up the news by now."

"Ori? Yup."

"Good."

Jon and Jack just leaned on the counter next to each other.

"I … the Stargate is my life in some ways," Jack suddenly said, but then stopped. A silence stretched on between them as they listened to the voices in the living room. Teal'c's low rumble. Sam's soft laugh. Vala's infectious cheer.

"Sam tells me that we're getting more different every day. You and me."

Jon looked over at Jack and just nodded.

"A year or so after … Loki, I got bumped up to lead the SGC, and then eventually Homeworld. You haven't gotten those experiences. The Stargate is my life. It brought us back to life. We healed with it. We bled with it. It's in our blood."

Jon nodded and finally spoke. "I thought I had put the Stargate behind me, but when the opportunity came, there was no way in hell I would let it slip by."

Jack nodded in understanding.

"Exactly. It's in our blood. Over the last five or so years, it's also become like a child to me - I've watched over it and protected it as best I could. It's soon going to be leaving the nest, if we want to keep the metaphor going."

"Metaphor? You've been hanging out with Jackson too long. He's corrupting your language. I oughta wash your mouth out."

Jack laughed as he took another pull from his bottle.

"Sorry, _mother_."

"It's all right. So, child, nests, birds, metathingy."

Jack lifted his bottle to his lips again. His middle finger was extended.

"Yeah. Metathingy. Anyway. In a few years, it's going public. There's already more public knowledge of it than I would like, but if things go smoothly for afew years, it's going public. There's too much pressure and opportunity to keep it hidden for much longer."

"Politics."

"Nope. Learn from the master, young padawan. Money."

It was Jon's turn to take a swig with a certain finger extended.

"Bringing in alien tech can change a lot of things for the better. But the big push is due to the money it'll make. You might have noticed things at the Alpha site. The companies are pushing for a lot of things that would start bringing them money, and aren't nearly as focused on the mission as I would like."

Jon nodded. "You're right. They push hard for things that have profit opportunities and drag their feet at everything else."

"Yup. Eventually the military is going to lose control of it. Nothing we can do can change that eventuality. The baby is going to grow up and leave the nest. We can guide it and try to set things up for it, though. Give it a push in the right direction."

"How you plan to do that?"

"Lots of sneaky maneuvering. I want the right people to be embedded right in the middle of it when it finally spreads its wings."

"Mixing metathings much?"

"Up yours.

"Anyway. I'd like you to be in a position of leadership when things go public. Not necessarily personally public, but able to influence things."

"What do you have in mind?"

"We're going to be expanding our bases throughout the galaxy. I want you to be heading one."

"You bastard. You're trying to get me in a desk job, aren't you!"

Jack laughed. "You saw right through me. Dang it. So how about it?"

It was Jon's turn to think.

'_How am I going to … nope, wrong question. Now isn't the time for how issues. Now it's time for goals. Is this something I want? Base director. Fewer Stargate trips. Less action, but I'm not very active right now. I'd be able to command action. Who knows what sort of idiot I might wind up under. Dang. So this is the stuff Jack has to deal with. Directing a base might grow into something more, even. Which is probably what Jack's hoping. So ..._'

In the end there was only one answer possible. Jon couldn't be himself and still give another answer. Honor. Protect. Serve.

"I'll do it."

* * *

**A/N: Wait! What? No Cassie/Jon hotness? How can I sleep, knowing I've completely lied to you readers?!**

**I'll tell you how - very easily.**

**:-}**

**Anyway, just a note to let you all know that we've reached the end of the TV series except for the last episode. Here's where I'm going to change things - humanity doesn't suddenly get all the Asgard tech. I REALLY didn't like that. I understand that it works as a solid ending to the TV series, but as part of an ongoing universe I absolutely hate it. Every disease on Earth suddenly goes away. Instant transportation. Unlimited energy (for humanity's immediate needs, anyway). Way too disruptive.**

**Also - the Asgard committing species-wide accidental suicide? Really? C'mon. Get real.**

**So, I'm dropping off that part. Sam's stint on Atlantis will stay in there, but it's not the focus of this story, so it'll be in the background.**

**Just an FYI for those of you who might be tracking where in the TV show these events have been happening.**


	35. Go For It Girl!

**Ahh, once again the cries of anguished readers has been a balm to my soul. Thank you all so much! :-D**

**Ok, _this_ one _might_ have just a hint of Cassie and Jon. Or maybe it doesn't. Read and find out! And as always, your reviews - whether they be angry threats or odes of love - are always welcome.**

* * *

Cassie hugged Grandpa George tightly. She hadn't seen him for close to a year, and even then it had just been a quick dinner at his house.

"I'm proud of you Cassie-bear. If you ever make it out to Virginia or DC, let me know and we'll make sure to meet up."

"I will. I'll definitely write before then."

He kissed her hair and pulled back. "Actually, I'm on Facebook these days, though the kids are still setting me up. I think we can talk on there or something. It's great for pictures, anyway."

Cassie pulled back with a giggle. "Grandpa George on Facebook? Will wonder never cease! I'll make sure to find you and add you in. You'll get to see all my posts about recombination and mutation rates. It'll be fascinating, I'm sure."

"I'll love it, I really will."

Cassie grabbed him in another hug and kissed his cheek. She loved the smell of the leathery aftershave. "Love you. Safe driving."

"Thanks, pumpkin. You too."

George waved to the others on the porch. "Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!"

Cassie and the others waved and called out 'Merry Christmas' before scurrying back inside Jack's warm house. She looked around and realized it was down to the core team, Trisha, Jon and herself. She saw Jon pick up the apple cider pitcher while heading to the kitchen, and fought with herself for a moment about going after him. Having so many friends around was fortunate, because every time she had a moment to herself she began to fret over Jon.

They had been happily laughing while working in the kitchen, but then she'd looked up into his eyes, his brown eyes so warm, his smile so perfect, she'd started to lean into him to … and then Sam had come in and she'd jumped away. She thought, _maybe_, he had started to respond and lean down to her as well, but now that she'd had several hours to double-guess herself she couldn't be sure.

Bold. That's what Trisha had said. Straightforward. Be honest and the worst that could happen is that he could turn her down. Yeah. That's all. And … that would just about kill her. No matter how gentle. But she was on pins and needles now - she didn't know how much longer she could function as she was now!

'_Just do it. He held your hand._'

'_Wrong. You held his hand._'

'_But he didn't pull away. And he spent all morning and lunch with me._'

'_Only because he was taking care of you. Like he would a kid. A passed-out drunk, hung-over kid._'

Maybe she would just look in to see what he was doing.

She headed for the kitchen but as she got closer, Sam called out, "Cassie!"

She turned around to see Sam standing up for the couch where she had settled with the others scattered around the living room. They continued talking as Sam walked over to Cassie.

"Cassie, I wanted to ask you about some of your research."

Cassie would have normally jumped at the chance to talk with Sam about her research, but at the moment she just wanted to see Jon.

"Um, yeah, I'd love to. Um, I was going to get a glass of water." She turned to head into the kitchen. Just a glimpse of Jon. She felt Sam's hand catch her arm.

"Just a second, Cass. Jon and Jack are talking in there. They would probably appreciate a few minutes. Jack had some stuff he wanted to run by Jon."

Cassie looked toward the kitchen with some worry and Sam chuckled. "It's work stuff, I think. They're pretty responsible about work, so I don't think it'll turn into a brawl. Come on, I do want to talk. I think there's still some water at the bar."

"Water?"

"You said you wanted some water."

"Oh, yeah."

Cassie looked up at Sam and saw a soft smile. It was suddenly too much. The uncertainty. She could feel tears begin to brim.

"Oh honey, come on."

Sam wrapped her arm around Cassie and began walking. Cassie leaned her head against Sam's as she let herself be guided along. She had wanted to talk with Sam so many times about this during their frequent phone calls, but Sam and Jon had a weird, tangled-up history themselves and Cassie hadn't wanted to discuss the weirdness.

"What's wrong, honey?"

Sam had led them into an office Cassie couldn't remember in Jack's house. Sam's eyes were filled with worry and love, and Cassie couldn't hold it in any longer. Sam was the closest thing she had to a mother these days, and she had hidden this for too long. She was so embarrassed. She wrapped her arms around Sam. "I'm sorry, Sam. I never told you. I - I wanted to, but it was complicated."

Sam's strong arms were wrapped around her and Cassie once again felt protected and loved and surrounded by family.

"It's all right, honey. It's all right. I'll understand. What's it all about? Jon?"

Cassie pulled back in surprise.

"Y-you know?"

Sam carefully cleared away a tear on Cassie's cheek. "That you've got some pretty good crushing on Jon happening? Yeah. You're like a daughter to me, and I could tell. This summer we talked after Jon had gone to you for genetics help and even over the phone something was wrong - that was the thing that finally had me start piecing it together."

Cassie sat down on a small leather sofa and Sam sat next to her, wrapping their hands together.

"Yeah, a crush is maybe all it'll ever be, but I've been nuts about him for years. If it were just some regular guy it wouldn't be a problem - we could date and see if it becomes serious, but, but …"

"It's Jon," Sam completed.

"Yeah. He was Jack. He's fifty years old inside. Jack was like a dad in some ways. Sure, Jon's only twenty, biologically, but he remembers me as a little kid. Imagine Jack being interested in a kid like me - it's impossible."

Sam's hands tightened. "And me and Jack - well it means Jon had those feelings too, and … yeah. I understand. I really do."

"What am I going to do, Sam? I … I made an idiot of myself yesterday. I so wanted him to see me as not just a kid anymore, but as an adult. Instead, I self-destructed. Jon was really nice - he took care of me and stayed with me, but he just sees me as a kid."

Sam snorted.

Cassie looked up at Sam's face in surprise.

"Cassie, I don't know if Jon is interested in a relationship with you, but … well, let me put it this way. Jack and Jon are identical genetically, and their shared memories of most of their lives make them even more alike."

Cassie nodded, but couldn't see where this was going. "That's part of the prob-"

"Hold on, let me continue," Sam smiled and Cassie closed her mouth. "I've been with Jack on an almost non-stop life or death basis for ten years. The last few years have been different when Jack moved to Homeworld, but before that - life or death for ten years. Jack and Jon are the best of the best in the entire Air Force when it comes to combat - special ops doing the most horrible and dangerous missions possible and surviving. Then came the Stargate and honed those skills even more against alien enemies.

"He has an instinctual awareness of almost everything around him. Most of it is just background noise that he dismisses, but that awareness is there. I've known him long enough that I can read him pretty well. Teal'c and Daniel too - we've spent so many years relying on each other that we can operate almost without speaking."

Sam paused. "Well, except for Daniel. He'll talk anyway, but when it comes to that deep understanding of each other, Daniel knows me, Jack, and Teal'c in that same way. We just _know_ each other."

Sam struggled for the next words, but Cassie wouldn't have interrupted for anything. She'd never heard any of them talk about this. It was team stuff - they never actually talked about team stuff. It was like the first rule of 'team stuff' - don't talk about 'team stuff', or at least not the important stuff.

"Jon, well, Jon is different than Jack in a lot of ways. He's diverged from the … oh, the control sample, I guess is the best term. He's diverged a lot, though I'm not sure either Jack or Jon appreciate how much divergence there is. But, that awareness is one of the things Jon definitely still shares with Jack. I can … oh,-" Sam threw her hands up in the air in frustration.

"I don't know how to describe it. That constant awareness is still there with Jon and I can see it. I can just sort of tell what Jon is focused on, or, or maybe it's better to say I can tell where Jon's attention is. There were only two people that Jon has been tracking all night."

"Jon and Jack were tracking each other. It was sort of funny at times. I have fun theories of alpha predators in proximity to another that they don't feel comfortable around, and how, well. Anyway - " Sam brushed that aside. "There was another person Jon has tracked all night - you."

Sam poked Cassie in the shoulder.

"Me?"

"Yeah, you. I can come up with a dozen different theories about _why_ he might not be looking at you like you think his memories should have him looking. But, if a decade of working with alien technology has taught me anything, it's that the theory of why it might be working isn't nearly as important as the fact that it _is_ working.

"Jon's a single male. Maybe it's nothing more than a single guy's awareness of a beautiful young woman, but he's definitely aware of you, and not as a kid."

Cassie swallowed. "Then, you think, maybe, he's not, I mean."

Sam squeezed her hands. "I don't know. That's one of the horrible and wonderful things about relationships - you don't truly know what you're getting into until you take the plunge. Jack and I danced around it for … well for almost ten years. There were times in there that I knew we …" Sam paused and laughed. "Cared for each other than we should."

The tone sounded almost like a quote to Cassie. It hinted at 'team stuff' - that stuff that didn't get talked about outside the team, and it didn't get talked about inside the team because they already knew it.

"Other times, well, we weren't sure. We thought maybe the other person had lost that desire. But, for you and Jon, right now, there's something there on both your parts. I don't know anything beyond that, but that part I do know."

Cassie squeezed Sam's hands between her own. She was so lucky to have someone like Sam. It didn't solve all of her worries, but it had soothed her.

She leaned her head against Sam's shoulder and Sam wrapped an arm about her. They sat for several minutes, enjoying the time together and listening to the muted sounds of the others talking and laughing in the living room.

"Do you think I should," Cassie finally asked.

"Should what?"

"Should try to start something with Jon?"

Sam took a deep breath and stood up, pulling Cassie up with her.

"I don't know if you should or not. I can tell you that if Jon is even half the person Jack is," Cassie snorted and Sam continued with a grin, "that he's a good, stupid, smart, annoying, and patient man."

Cassie laughed. "I can see that, I really can. I'll need to decide for myself, won't I?"

Sam nodded. "Yup."

Cassie giggled softly. "You sounded like Jack, there."

"Jack's not going to push himself on anyone, and I suspect that if Jon is interested in more than friendship, that he has even more worries than you do."

Cassie heaved a dramatic sigh. "All right. We should probably head back out."

Sam linked her arm through Cassie's as they walked back down the hallway.

"So when did Jack turn that room into an office?" Cassie's curiosity finally got the better of her.

"He made it for me - finished it back in August. I haven't had much chance to use it yet, but now that the Ori aren't an existential threat, we plan on spending a lot more time here."

Cassie grinned a little to herself. Sam's voice was certainly happy sounding. Happiness. Happiness with Jack.

The re-entered the living room and Cassie noticed Jon had already turned in his seat to see her enter. Looked like Sam was right. It sent a little thrill through her to know that he was watching her, aware of her. It gave her a boost of confidence that maybe she wasn't being silly. She smiled at Jon and was rewarded with a return smile that sent her mood soaring.

Sam chuckled softly beside her and Cassie looked up.

"I think I see where this is going," Sam whispered in her ear. "Go get 'im."

Cassie gave a giggle and bumped Sam with her hip.

She crossed over behind the sofa and leaned down next to Jon.

'_Come on, let's see where this goes._'

"Did you know Jack built an office back there for Sam?"

"Um, really?" Jon glanced over to where Sam had settled in next to Jack. "I guess she's spending a lot of time here. Good. Which room did he convert? The storage room? Goodness knows where he put all that junk."

"It's really nice. Some wood paneling, several bookshelves that Sam has half-filled already, nice desk, little sofa - the works."

Interest grew on Jon's face. "Sounds really nice." He stood up and said to Jack, "Mind if I check out the office you made?"

"Sure," Jack replied. He started to rise, but Cassie saw Sam's hand, previously resting on Jack's thigh suddenly dig in, and Jack relaxed back down, giving Sam a curious look. "Knock yourself out."

Cassie followed behind Jon and gave Sam a smile, mouthing 'Thanks'. Sam's eyes crinkled in a conspiratorial grin. Cassie glanced over to the others, but Vala seemed to the only one to notice anything - she quickly winked at Cassie. Cassie blushed and quickly followed Jon.

Jon paused in the doorway and Cassie leaned up against his back, looking over his shoulder.

"Um," Jon cleared his throat. "I, uh, like it. The room. Office."

Cassie squeezed past him through the doorway, brushing her breasts along his arm. She thought she felt him take in a quick breath, but she didn't look back.

'_This is fun - nervewracking, but fun._'

The office was wonderful, in Cassie's opinion. Four large bookshelves were made of rough hewn natural wood, matching the large desk in the middle of the room. She hadn't noticed the first time, but there were two chairs at the desk on opposite sides, and for a moment she could almost see Sam and Jack sharing the desk with their coffee cups, comfortably able to be with each other even while working.

A burst of happiness and longing hit her for a moment.

"Looks like he's moving into the twenty first century, finally."

Cassie turned to see Jon point at the small server rack that held a bank of softly flashing computer lights. Wood trim on the rack softened the look and helped it blend in.

Cassie noticed another detail she had missed before. "Jon, check this out." One of the bookshelves had a Stargate glyph carved into it. "There's another one," she pointed to another bookshelf.

"Very clever," Jon murmured. "It looks like …" he turned his head, looking around the softly lit room, "... they have most of the glyphs here. Probably all of them tucked away somewhere."

"Do you think they'd get in trouble for this?"

"Jack and Sam? Nah. Only people already in the know would think they're anything more than weird symbols."

Jon crossed to the window and looked out across the back yard. Cassie could see snow drifting down through the air, but Jon's form was far more interesting. His shirt was loose enough that it wasn't tight, but his outline was plenty to let her know there was a solidly muscled body underneath.

Cassie bit her lip and took a deep breath.

'_This is a pretty good time, Cassie girl, go for it._'

Before she lost her nerve she came up next to him and tucked her arm around his waist.

With the contact she could feel him take a shuddering breath. For a long second he didn't move and Cassie's heart began to beat faster. Finally his arm came up around her shoulder and tentatively settled. Cassie leaned her head against him and looked out the window, luxuriating in the being able to hold his solid presence. His grasp slowly tightened on her and she wiggled in so her whole body was pressed against his side.

"Cassie?" Jon's voice was a little hoarse, but it was beautiful in her ears.

"Mmmm?" She nuzzled his chest just a little.

"I - whew - um, would you like to …"

Cassie smiled into his chest. That he was nervous was somehow completely unexpected and perfectly wonderful.

"Yes."

"Tomorrow, would you like to go out with me?"

"Yes."

"Really?"

"Yes. Definitely yes."

Jon pulled her around and Cassie wrapped her arms around his waist, leaning her head into the crook of his neck, feeling the soft beat of his pulse as he wrapped her up.

'_Heaven. Just … heaven._'

Cassie couldn't tell how long they stood there, but the grandfather clock back in the living room began to chime midnight. She sighed. They would have to go back out, but this was so nice.

"Merry Christmas," she murmured.

"Hmmm?" Jon's questioning hum vibrated through both their bodies and set Cassie's body vibrating with tingles of its own.

She pulled back and looked up into Jon's face.

"Merry Christmas."

Jon's eyes seemed nearly black as she met his gaze, and heat coiled down through her body, settling deep in her stomach as his eyes latched onto hers.

"Merry Christmas," he murmured. His head slowly dipped toward her, and she arched her back, stretching up to meet his lips with her own. His lips softly met hers and she heard herself let out a small moan as they melded together. His lips gently moved across hers and tingles of electricity shot through her body.

Her fingers reflexively grasped at his shirt and she pulled him harder against her body, delighting in the soft kiss but wanting more contact, more … more. Jon's arms responded, tightening and beginning to run across her shoulders, leaving trails of fire across her skin. She wanted nothing more than to feel more of him against her, she pressed harder into his kiss, opening up her lips and beginning to slide her tongue around his own which was there to greet hers.

One of his hands was cupping the back of her head, grasping her hair tightly, while his other began exploring down her back. As it drifted lower, excitement and anticipation built in her body, pooling deeper and deeper as his hand drifted down her back. As it reached the top of her buttocks she ground her mound against Jon's groin, making Jon jerk and grasp her ass, frantically squeezing and kneading.

Just as her fingers began clawing at his back, she felt him pull away a little, releasing her and sliding his hands up her back to a less exciting location. Cassie felt his lips begin to pull back and quickly sucked in his lower lip, biting it gently, only slowly letting his lips escape her hungry mouth.

The rest of the world slowly intruded back on her senses as she leaned her forehead against Jon's - her heart was pounding through her chest and the general flush of pleasure across her body separated into distinct sensations. Her breasts were pleasantly aching, pressed against Jon's chest and her crotch was throbbing as she could feel Jon's hardness pressed low into her.

Jon slowly pulled apart and it took several tries for her to open her eyes, to re-enter the world that was not his lips.

His expression was a mix of wonder and a dazed unfocused look which Cassie was certain she shared.

"Wow," she finally breathed.

Jon leaned his forehead against her own, a tiny smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. "Yeah, wow. Um, that was, whew, um sorry about getting carried away."

Cassie grinned and lifted her lips to catch his in a quick kiss. She knew she should feel embarrassed, ready to climb on and fuck him during their first kiss, but her desire easily overrode her shyness.

"I like getting carried away," Cassie said, but her throat was tight and it came out rasping. Jon moaned out a shuddering breath and began to tighten his hold on her.

"Jon! Cassie! It's Christmas!"

Vala's voice echoed down the hall and Jon huffed a laugh.

"I know. I just got a heck of a Christmas gift," he murmured.

Vala's voice came down the hall again, "Are you two reading Sam's books? Get back out here!"

Jon chuckled. "I used to really like her. Not so much at the moment."

Cassie sighed, the fire in her stomach was turning into an ache that she desperately wanted to satisfy, but her thoughts were coming together clearly enough to realize here and now weren't the best of times to continue this. "We'd best get going."

Jon sighed and let her go.

"I'm coming, and I'll drag Cassie out of here too," he called back down the hall. He quickly tucked his shirt back in, and Cassie couldn't even remember having pulled it out. She quickly shook her hair out and smoothed her dress. She looked at Jon's jeans and could tell he was still fully aroused, but then, she knew what to look for. Hopefully no one would notice.

Jon's hand touched her arm, and she looked up with a sudden burst of shyness that didn't make any sense. When she saw Jon's face, though, it vanished to the look of adoration so clear. He reached down and kissed her again, just a soft little brush of lips, but lightning still rippled down her body and she shivered as he straightened back up.

She started toward the door quickly, the urge to wrap him up and drown in those heavenly kisses was nearly too much.

As she reached the door she was suddenly certain everyone would be looking at her and know exactly what she had been doing back there. Several people did look up as she came to the living room, but it wasn't with knowing smiles. Jon spoke up from behind her.

"Jack, I like it. A lot! The Stargate symbols scattered around are a clever touch. We couldn't find all of them, though."

Cassie nearly goggled at his casual tone. No one seemed to blink an eye or look at them suspiciously. Well, Vala was, but she was always suspicious.

"Sides of the desk. Those are probably the ones you missed."

"Ah, yup, I didn't notice those. Very nice."

Cassie stifled a giggle as Jon walked over to the bar and poured a cup of hot chocolate.

Cassie sat down on the sofa, making sure to leave enough room for him. She sighed contentedly as Jon settled in next to her, sprawling out as if he hadn't a care in the world, except that his leg and arm were pressing up against her. Their warmth flowed through her, coiling around and leaving her distracted - she just wanted to touch him more. A moment later she shifted slightly so she was sitting more firmly against Jon's side.

She had a difficult time focusing on the argument that soon erupted - whether Santa Claus could deliver presents on other planets - but she couldn't seem to stop smiling.

Oh God, but she wanted to get Jon alone and start ripping off his clothes! She pinched her legs together as a sudden throb went through her.

* * *

**A/N: I know some of you aren't quite feeling the Jon/Cassie thing, but don't worry if you aren't. I'm going to kill her off in the next chapter.**

**Or maybe I won't. Depends on the reviews. :-D**


	36. Leaving Her

**Wow, I think I've discovered the secret to lots of reviews - threaten to kill characters! Oh, and leave the characters in perpetual states of unrelieved horniness. Hmmmm.**

**Y'all need to be careful about what sort of reinforcement you give me. :-)**

* * *

**December 28th, 2010, Colorado Springs, CO**

Jon followed Teal'c and Trisha into Teal'c's house, and began stripping off his layers. Christmas had been picturesque with the light snow showers, but the snow had finally arrived in full force. So of course Trisha and Teal'c had wanted to do another running trip. In a snowstorm.

Normally Jon would have loved it, but he'd been up until 0300 with Cassie. He smiled at the memory. They'd just cuddled on the couch, sharing kisses, and talking as the mood struck them. That first passionate kiss was seared in his mind, but he kept anything from getting even close to that again. The smell of her, her soft hand in his, the little kisses which were all he dared to do.

If he didn't keep it carefully light he was going to be dragging her down on the couch and taking her. Hard. Yanking her clothes off. Licking those perfect breasts. Feeling her clench about ...

"Earth to Jon!"

"Huh?" Trisha's voice broke his train of thought.

"You've just been standing there with your hoodie half off for a minute now. You ok?"

"Yeah, yeah." Jon hurriedly finished pulling off his hoodie and cold weather BDU pants. "Just thinking."

"You and Teal'c both. Ever since the party. What's up with you two?" She poked Jon in the shoulder. "_You_ I can figure out what you're thinking about. That's easy." Her grin had a decidedly wicked look and Jon tried not to give away anything.

"You, on the other hand," she punched Teal'c in the side of the chest before rubbing her hand over his chest, looking up into his face, suddenly speaking more softly. "Are more of a mystery."

"I too am thinking," Teal'c said, looking uncomfortable. Jon looked at him in surprise - he'd known something was occupying the big man's thoughts, but he knew Teal'c would bring it up if he needed to. But - uncomfortable? And it hadn't been a subtle thing, either - that had been obvious.

Trisha smiled at Teal'c and bowed her head with a slight tilt. Jon recognized it as a Jaffa signal of acquiescence and openness. He was impressed.

"I'm going to do something for you two that I want you guys to know I don't lightly do. I'm going to cook for you two. We have piles of eggs and meat. Omlets will be ready in twenty minutes."

She walked to the kitchen, and Jon watched Teal'c's gaze follow her, a disquiet shadowing his stoic expression.

"Come on, if we grab some showers we can help her out and give her a chance to get a shower too before we eat."

There was a tiny hesitation in Teal'c's response, but he nodded.

Jon relaxed with nearly five minutes of hot water before wrapping up and stepping out. Teal'c, already washed and wearing a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, was standing in his room, waiting for him.

"What's on your mind, big man?"

"I am uncertain of how to proceed. I wish for your advice, JonO'Neill."

Nerves coiled in Jon. "Of course."

"GeneralO'Neill has given his support to the efforts to bind the Jaffa into a single nation. I shall be returning to the Jaffa. You, Daniel, and Trish'a have been of great help. I am confident the Jaffa will join together, though the effort will take many years."

"I wish for Trish'a to join me. I do not trust my own judgement in this, though. Meditation on this is difficult. I am … distracted."

Jon began pulling on his clothes, letting Teal'c speak at his own pace.

"I do not know if it is right for me to ask this of her - leaving one's people behind is a great sacrifice. I believe I may be desiring her for my own pleasure, and not truly wishing for her to follow her own path of honor. I do not wish to have her come against her judgement."

Jon took a deep breath.

"Whew. For a second there, I thought you were going to ask a hard question, old buddy."

A brief scowl crossed Teal'c face.

"I'm not making light of this Teal'c. Truly. This is not a hard question. It's only your own confusion which makes this difficult for you to see."

Teal'c brow cleared and a soft chuckle escaped his lips.

"JonO'Neill, I hear Bra'tac's words from your mouth. Often he has scolded me thus. How have I been blind?"

Jon smirked to cover his own surprise. '_Wow. Compared with Bra'tac._'

"Is Trisha a weak woman?"

"No. She is strong of spirit and body."

"Is she easily confused?"

"No."

"Uncertain of herself?"

"No."

"Unable to walk her own path of honor?"

"No." Teal'c voice had growled a little there. Jon knew that last question had been chancy. Only the fact that it was clearly rhetorical kept it from being a grave insult.

"Then I suggest you let her decide what her path is and not try to figure it out for her."

Teal'c was silent for several moments and Jon finished dressing in the silence.

He was pulling on his socks when Teal'c finally spoke. "Indeed."

Jon smiled.

'That's _the Teal'c I know and love._'

"Come on, let's let Trisha go get showered."

He looked at Teal'c and smiled. A tension he hadn't fully noticed before had fallen away, and a familiar contented confidence was again evident in the stoic Jaffa. He truly envied the Jaffa that ability to almost instantly resolve himself to a path he saw to be right without second guesses. Jon could do that in combat, but it was harder for him to do it in personal matters.

Matter so duty? No problem - he had some calls to make after breakfast. Personal matters? Harder to do.

* * *

"Hello, sir. This is Jon O'Neill. Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas! You know we aren't in the service any more, you can drop the sir, especially around Christmas!"

Jon smiled. He liked Alphonso White, Blackbriar's president. A very fat year-end bonus had also helped. They had cleaned up from breakfast and were relaxing about the house. Jon was starting some things moving at Blackbriar.

"Thank you, um, I'm calling with a bit of news that the company might be interested in."

"Really?" Alphonso's voice had suddenly become _very_ interested. "Your advice has certainly been a boon in the past. I'm listening."

"This isn't a secure line, so I can't say everything, but I would like to talk in person relatively soon."

"Absolutely. I can meet as soon as you want."

"I need to be back at the site by the 31st. I'll need to take a flight out to Washington. I'm in Colorado Springs right now."

"Hmm, that's Friday. Today is Tuesday. I'll have my secretary get you a ticket on a flight out tomorrow morning."

"That's fine. There's good news on the conflict front, and you might even be getting some rumors. You might look at the end of the conflict and think that our jobs might be cut back."

"Ahh, well I appreciate the …"

"But,," Jon overrode, "you might wait to see further developments before acting. In fact, it's possible that good preparation might be in order to … um, capitalize on the possibility of, uh, expanded opportunities."

Alphonso was silent for a moment, either considering the possibilities or trying to decipher the obtuse wording, Jon wasn't sure. "You're certain about this, Jon? Because I've gotten a lot more than rumors about the end of the conflict. There have already been some fairly high level meetings discussing the reduced need for our services."

"Yes, sir. There's to be an immediate need for our services as things expand, though in different ways than they have so far. We might want to broaden our services further beyond our current offerings."

The phone was silent for a moment longer.

"Awe, bugger it. I think we're going to need to talk more clearly in person to get much more out of this, but I appreciate what you've been able to say. We'll meet tomorrow afternoon and get the real details."

"Sure, I can give more details then. This is going to start soon, and I want to make sure we're ready. There are some impressive possibilities."

"I appreciate it, Jon."

"You're welcome."

Jon sat back after the call, considering. Jack would be pushing to expand the number of bases across the galaxy. He could start to see some of the plans that Jack might be working on - letting the wrong sorts of companies get into place before public revelations could change the tone of Earth's actions throughout the galaxy from one of exploration and learning to one of exploitation. The first people out there would do a lot to set the tone for everyone else.

Of course, eventually Earth's actions through the galaxy would be out of any single person's control, but hopefully with the right direction at the beginning, Earth wouldn't be a pox on the galaxy. In fact, if Jack was working with the Jaffa …. Jon didn't know enough of the facts to guess at the details of what Jack might be trying to accomplish with the Jaffa, but Jon could start to guess what the general shape of what Jack would try to get with the Jaffa.

Plans began to roll out like a battlefield in Jon's mind. Placing forces, the right type of forces, in the correct places could determine the outcome of a battle before a single shot was fired. Seeing where actions, reactions, and interactions would happen - where opposition might pop up, where no opposition might cause rapid expansion, where resources would help those who held them …

Jon didn't even register Teal'c begin to enter the room and then stop upon seeing him sitting in the chair, staring into space. Teal'c backed out quietly and spoke to Trisha. She looked toward Jon's room with curiosity, but nodded to Teal'c, and they slipped away, leaving Jon to his thoughts.

An hour later Jon shook his head and dismissed his ruminations. Jack was playing a very deep and very long game here. He wasn't sure how he could help yet, but it was definitely something worth doing.

The bad part - he and Cassie were just starting out and this meant visits back to Earth would be few and far between. Long-distance relationships were one thing - this was on a whole different level.

He suddenly thanked his lucky stars he and Cassie hadn't done more than cuddling and kissing. This was going to be hell parting ways, even just now.

The thought flashed through his mind of telling Cassie it would be better to consider their relationship to be "off" until, or if, they got back together. He couldn't bail out of this work - he wasn't in the military any more, but this was still work to make a galaxy where people were safe from tyrants and abuse.

He shook his head, though. They had started something together, something wonderful, and even if it was new they needed to decide together. Just … he hated to be the bearer of bad news like this.

Well, he'd wait until he got back from Washington. Maybe Alphonso wouldn't be interested in adding in full alien base management to Blackwater's work. Maybe, maybe, maybe. Too many 'maybes' floating around to make a decision right now.

Trisha poked her head into the living room. "Hey Jon, am I interrupting anything?"

"Hmm? No, I was just thinking over some plans."

"Ok. Teal'c expressed interest in a weapons range and we're going to one in Denver. We'll be gone overnight, so you won't need to suffer again."

"Actually, I'm heading to D.C. tomorrow morning for a meeting. I need to be back to the Alpha Site on Friday, so I'll be back by then. Other than that, though, I'm not sure of my schedule."

"Better you than me."

Jon looked at her sourly. She didn't know future plans, but she had hit on the other downside of what Jon was seeing in the future.

"Yeah, yeah. Karma is obviously paying me back for teasing Jack about suffering through meetings. I'll lock the place up before I take off tomorrow morning."

"All right. Thanks, Jon. Have fun on your trip and meeting!"

Jon flipped her the bird.

He started to work over some plans. He wanted to talk with Jack a bit more now that he'd thought things through and had better questions.

Cassie, too. His stomach flipped at the thought of seeing her again. She was light and sweetness, and Jon could tell he was falling hard. And now, he'd be leaving not just for a few more months at the Alpha site, but if everything went well, he'd be heading out for possibly years on end. Now that he'd just found someone who really did light his life up.

"Sometimes, Jon, I think the universe hates you," he mumbled to himself.

* * *

Cassie was curled up on the couch at Jack's house talking with Sam, but her concentration was shot - Jon had let her know there were some 'work' changes coming up when he'd picked her up at Sam's house, and he needed to take off tomorrow morning for a trip to D.C.

She hoped tonight was the night - if he was going to be gone for a day or two and possibly getting back just in time to run into the Stargate for months, there was no way she wanted to be separated without having done more than kissing. She loved cuddling and kissing with Jon, but he was putting the brakes on things, and she was definitely not interested in brakes at the moment.

Her gaze drifted to where Jack and Jon were sitting in the dining room, conversing in quiet and serious tones.

She'd expected to have Jon take her home Christmas Eve and they'd spend all night together. Nope. That had been a bit frustrating. To put it mildly.

Jon had kept it low-key since then, too. Since that first time in the study, he hadn't so much as let his hands drift. The kisses still curled her toes, but it was starting to get very frustrating - every time the kisses got too fierce Jon slowed it back down. She hadn't gotten the nerve up to out and out jump him, but she was getting there quickly with every kiss that got broken off as it got heated.

"It's about future plans for the Stargate program."

Sam's voice broke her train of thoughts. "What? What is?"

"Jack and Jon's conversation. You seemed distracted watching them. They're talking about future plans for the Stargate program. Now that the Ori are no longer a major threat, it'll go public one of these days and he wants to be ready for when it does."

"Oh, yeah. Jon mentioned he might have some work changes coming up. He's flying out to D.C. tomorrow morning." Something must have shown on her face because Sam reached over and laid a hand on her leg.

"Tell me to butt out if you like, but things going alright with you and Jon?"

Cassie hesitated. It was almost like a mom asking - good and bad. Good that she loved, trusted, and relied on Sam - bad that she was talking relationship with the woman that was a mom and big sister rolled into one.

'_Awe, hell with it._'

"Yeah. We, um, we're seeing each other now. Not, you know, all the way seeing each other, but dating. He's taking things slow, but we've been spending time with each other."

"_He's_ taking things slow?" Sam's voice was curious, and Cassie almost giggled. Sam was smart, _really_ smart. She'd just meant to confirm they hadn't recklessly jumped into bed right away, but … yeah, the way she'd phrased that had been accurate.

"I've been in love, or at least I've had a major crush on him, for years now. He's playing catch up and he's taking it slow." The longing to have him in his entirety washed over her, leaving her aching. "Really slow."

"Ouch," Sam winced in sympathy.

Cassie gave Sam a little smile. "Yeah. Just a little."

Sam bit her lip for a second before replying. "Jon has a few more issues than normal, you know that. He might be uncertain and playing it safe. I don't know what he's thinking, but he's not in this casually - that's just not his nature. If you're together, then he's serious about it. Don't doubt that."

"Yeah, I'm serious too, it's just a bit … frustrating. I ..." Cassie lowered her voice. "I haven't ever, you know. I haven't been able to find a guy who I can get serious with, so I'm still, um, inexperienced, and I'm really, really ready to get some experience with Jon. Scared too."

Sam smiled sympathetically and leaned in conspiratorially. "Cassie, I know you'll be nervous as hell, but I can also assure you that _that_ part of it is the last thing you need to worry about. _That_ part always works out, and with you and Jon I can promise you it'll be great."

Cassie could feel her face warming. Janet had given her "the talk", though it had been more like an ongoing discussion for a few years. Sam had talked with her several times too. This wasn't the first time they'd talked about sex, but having a specific person and time at hand was much different.

"I guess. I'm more worried about him leaving and not seeing him for months at a time. And I definitely don't want to wait six months or a year before, er, yeah."

"I certainly understand that. Don't stress about that too much, though. Things will be much better if it happens when you're both ready and not rushing things."

"So you think I'm rushing things?"

"I don't know how things are between you two - whether you're rushing it or not. That's up to you to decide."

Cassie sighed and then laughed. "Blah. Relationships are hard."

Sam smiled and sipped her beer.

"Yes, but the good ones are very … " she wiggled her eyebrows at Cassie, " … very good."

'_Oh god. Way too much from Sam._'

"T.M.I. Definitely, T.M.I. Suddenly I'm ready to change topics. How about these plans? Has Jack shared much?"

Sam gave a wicked grin. "Well, he doesn't usually talk much, but get him in the right mood and he'll ramble."

Cassie wrinkled her nose. "Remember? Changing topics? We were changing topics!"

Sam giggled, and Cassie noticed Jack look over suddenly. "Ok, ok. Jack's looking to expand the number of bases that …."

Cassie listened with interest to what Sam knew. Sam had set her at ease, at least enough that she was able to pay attention to their conversation instead of drifting over toward Jon.

As they left Jack's house late in the evening, Sam hugged her and whispered in her ear.

"Confidence - confidence not to feel like you have to hurry something, and confidence to seize the chance when it comes. Jon loves you, I can tell. You can be completely confident about that."

"Thanks, Sam. I'm feeling a lot better, I appreciate it."

She turned to Jon who was standing out on the porch with Jack waiting for Sam and Cassie to finish their goodbyes. Something about the way they were standing together seemed to denote comfort - something she realized was new. Jon and Jack comfortably scheming together? Yeah, the galaxy was in trouble.

She giggled as she walked over to Jon and wrapped an arm around his waist. She and Jon had been keeping things just between them, but Cassie suddenly realized she was getting comfortable too. Comfortable enough to start allowing the rest of the world in on their secret.

She stretched up and kissed Jon's cheek. "Sorry to keep you boys waiting. Ready to go?"

Both Jon and Jack had startled expressions on their faces, and she stifled the urge to giggle again.

"G'night Jack, Sam," Jon finally got out and they headed out toward the car. Cassie tucked her head against his jacket as they walked. She felt Jon press a kiss to the top of her head.

The drive back to Sam's house was quiet, but Jon had reached over and taken her hand in his and brought it up to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to it. Cassie squeezed his hand in reply, reveling in the feel of the simple but intimate gesture. Her entire body seemed to flush in pleasure - a contented and loved feeling.

When they got into Sam's house, Jon didn't pull off his jacket and Cassie felt a moment of disappointment, but he was looking at her with so much tenderness that she had little room for any feelings other than a warm feeling of being loved.

She stepped into his arms and reveled in the comfort of his arms wrapping her up.

"You could stay for a bit," she whispered.

She felt his arms tighten and a deep hum resonate in his chest. "I don't dare."

She nuzzled his chest and felt his hands began rubbing her back in soft strokes.

"I know you have to leave early, but you could leave from here."

There, that had to make it completely clear to him.

She felt Jon shift slightly, pulling away enough that he could see her face.

"I might be gone for a long time, Cassie. I - I don't want to jump into things just because we're going to part. I want to jump into things and never let go."

Jon's words were soft and low, but rocked Cassie back on her heels. She couldn't move for a moment and then energy jolted through her and she grabbed his head and pulled him down for a searing kiss. She could feel his arms wrap around her and hold her close as her tongue traced back and forth over his lips, and then his own tongue was there answering her own. Her whole world seemed to be absorbed by the feel of their lips and tongues sliding, sucking, licking. She finally felt Jon slowing down the kiss and groaned in agony.

Her body was beginning to tingle and vibrate, desire pooling in her chest again.

"Jon, if you don't take me to bed, I'm going to hurt you."

A chuckle rolled through him as he captured her mouth with his own and renewed the kiss, though more slowly.

'_No rushing. Not rushing. And don't push. Don't push. He's not ready. But, gaaaahh!_'

She finally broke the kiss herself.

"Sorry. I shouldn't have - "

"No, don't be sorry. I, well, I would love to take you to bed." Jon shifted his hips a little and she could feel the hard length of him against her belly and a tingle ran through her again. "I just don't want this to be a goodbye time. I'm serious - I want years and years and I want to do it right."

His words both soothed her and stoked her with anticipation. She had certainly imagined years, even forever, with him but knowing that he also had the same thoughts reassured her and gave her an eager anticipation that screamed to be be started _now_.

She sighed. There was even part of his words that made sense, though the lust still roiling through her suggested it was only a very little sense in the way of a very big lust. Still …

"I understand, I do. I'm … just … not feeling like putting things off right now." An idea popped into her head. "Compromise? Maybe just stay with me tonight, just sleeping? I won't be seeing you again for a long time once you head back through the Stargate."

Jon nuzzled her hair. "That sounds like heaven. Torture, maybe, but heaven too."

Pleasure welled again in her.

'_Having a guy like Jon confess his reactions to me certainly does do wonders for my ego._'

"Thank you, Jon. I'll try not to torture too much." To confirm her words she stepped back, immediately missing the warmth of his embrace.

"You can't help that, Cassie. How about I grab a shower, first?"

Cassie giggled and glanced at the crotch of his jeans, still bulging. The sight sent a shiver through her again.

"I'll grab one too. I don't think we'll be running out of hot water."

Jon reached out for her hand and gave it a squeeze before pulling off his jacket and heading toward the bathroom. "Yeah, hot water is safe from me right now."

Cassie raced through her own shower in the guest room's bathroom - the straight cold water certainly having an immediate effect, though as soon as she was toweling off, the rough friction across her skin started her thoughts warming again. She darted out to pull on her sleep pants and … she considered a little halter top but put it back in exchange for a loose "Special Forces" t-shirt before crawling into bed.

Two minutes later, the door to her room pushed open with Jon tentatively looking inside. She giggled at the nervous expression on his face, but suddenly stopped when he stepped in. A pair of tight black boxer briefs and a white undershirt was his outfit, and it was stretched tight - everywhere.

His boxer briefs twitched.

She dragged her eyes away and cleared her throat. "I thought you were supposed to return the favor - you know, not torture me either."

Jon stepped quickly across the room and slid into the sheets, pulling her close up against his body. "I wasn't planning on nightwear. Sorry. My bags are packed back at Teal'c's place."

Cassie snuggled into Jon's side, laying her head on his shoulder and throwing an arm and leg over him.

"Mmmm," she hummed. The feeling of being able to wrap him up like this was … "Heaven."

Jon grunted. "And torture." His arm pushed her leg down so her thigh wasn't directly on his hard rod. She was tempted to slide it back up, but she had promised.

She squeezed him tight. "I'm going to miss you."

His arm tightened around her. "Gonna miss you too, so much," came his murmured reply.

She settled into his embrace, pushing aside the thought that he'd be gone for months on end. Sleep was a long time coming for both of them.

It was still dark when the bed shifted enough to wake her. Something was tugging at her attention, but she just wanted to sleep. Jon. Hmmm. Jon. She was having a wonderful dream of sleeping with Jon.

She could feel his fingers running across her bare stomach. She kept her eyes closed, not wanting to let the dream end. She felt kisses fall on her cheek.

"I love you," was whispered in her ear.

Jon's hands felt so good, but they would feel even better on her breasts. She grabbed a hand and put it on her breasts. The weight of his hand gave a delightful throb to her body and when it squeezed just a little, tingles jolted through her. That was really intense!

'_I'm awake?!_'

She pushed her eyes open to see Jon sitting next to her, lip caught in his teeth. Moments later the fact that he was fully clothed registered.

'_Oh, damn, he's leaving!_'

"I wanted to say goodbye. I'm heading out. I'll be back in a couple days, though. I'll get back as soon as I possibly can, I promise."

Her sleep-fogged mind slowly absorbed his words and she worked to sit up to hold him.

His hand, still on her breast, pressed her back down.

"Shhh, go back to sleep." His lips came down to meet her own and then were gone, far too quickly.

She pulled her eyes open just in time to see him step out the door, blowing her a kiss before he closed it.

She closed her eyes, wanting to go back to the wonderful dream of being wrapped in his arms. Being awake meant she'd be missing him.

* * *

**A/N: I want you guys to know I really do love you. I was seriously considering stopping the chapter up where Jon is moaning about the universe hating him. I don't do nice things very often, so consider this as my good deed for the year.**

**I'd threaten to kill Cassie again in the next chapter, but I think you guys are all on to that little stunt. ;-) She and their unborn child don't die until the very end, you know - give Jon the maximum angst.**


	37. Having The Talk

**This chapter's a bit shorter - sorry to any of you who like those huge 4000+ word chapters. Y'all are nuts. Anyway, wrapping up the "Christmas" time here.**

* * *

**P5X-707, "Treefort", January 18th, 2011**

"No! Leave it! Just grab a tissue sample and we're heading back!"

Jon was leading a dozen biologists and engineers through a marsh-type environment that the scientists had considered to be absolutely fascinating until a massive worm had tried to eat one. A score of guards had taken down the worm, the scientists had freaked out for a minute, and were now once again fascinated with the meter-wide worm.

"We need to dissect the creature! Samples don't tell us anything. You guys are here to support us, we'll be fine. It's dead now."

'_Oh fer cryin' out loud!_'

Jon paused for a second deciding how to handle this, and the scientists went back to examining the corpse. He could always pull rank as the base director, but these people were going to be working in his base. He needed to maintain decent relations with them, while still keeping them safe.

Fortunately, they weren't nearly as smart as the two scientists he had worked with for seven years.

He held up his hand so all his men could see him. As soon as he had their attention he started counting down with his fingers. They'd know something was up and they'd follow along.

5 … 4 … 3 … 2 … 1.

"Tremors! There's another worm nearby! Back to base! Back to base! Move it, move it!" Jon yelled it out at the top of his lungs.

The eight biologists gathered around the worm's corpse reacted as one, lunging away from the body, some of them even leaving their materials behind as they ran back to the center of the ring of security guards.

"Drew! Lead the way. Everyone else keep sharp. If we keep moving, it will have a harder time burrowing up underneath us. Move out!"

The members of the security team were all hiding their grins as they boisterously yelled back and forth, tell each other to tighten up and keep an eye out. One of the men at the rear yelled up that he was feeling a 'gullywhumper of a tremor turning my spine to jelly back here' and the scientists began crowding the heels of the front of the security team.

This was an orientation trip for the scientists and engineers who were going to be making up the core of the research base that was beginning to be built, the first of the upcoming wave of new bases.

This base was the first of nearly twenty planned, and Blackbriar had been tasked with being in charge of this base, and possibly all of them, due to the potentially dangerous nature of the mission - they were going to be smaller research bases without the massive infrastructure of the sites like Alpha and Gamma which were also backup military and bug-out sites. Instead they would be dedicated to research, ostensibly for military purposes, but Jon could tell from the structure Jack had supplied that there would be a lot more fundamental research going on than applicable military weapons development.

Give these sites a couple of years, and when the Stargate program went public, there would be a long list of dramatic discoveries to showcase and an entrenched ethos of exploration.

At least that was what Jon guessed Jack was trying for. He hadn't heard from Teal'c or Trisha since Christmas, and he hadn't heard much of anything from Earth about the Jaffa.

The group reached the base without further incident, and Jon was pleased to see the base still standing. Massive sections of tree trunks formed the pillars of the chain link fence surrounding the base, and the base had quickly been named "Treefort" by its inhabitants.

The planet had extremely aggressive plant life. The worm was the first large creature found, and Jon was worried what other surprises the planet held. Hell, he had been worried about that all along - this was just the first evidence that his worries were for a good reason.

"Drew, after you get your guys squared away, draw up some plans for defenses against a worm coming up inside the compound and show me. Also, send a team out to retrieve that worm, or at least as much of it as you can get out of the ground. The scientists will be thrilled to have it, and I want to know what we're dealing with."

Jon had picked Drew Thompson, the sniper who had been with Jon on the Lucian Alliance attempted kidnapping, to be the head of base security. The man had virtually zero interaction skills with non-military, but within the security forces he kept things running like a well-oiled machine.

"Yes sir. And sir, nicely done on getting the eggheads back to base."

Jon smirked a little. "Just keep it inside the security personnel. Don't want to get people's feathers ruffled."

"Yes sir," the grin stretched wide on the tall, lanky man's face.

Jon headed to his "office" where he spent far too much time for his liking, the main reason why he had tagged along on the outing. The office wasn't much, it didn't even have office equipment, instead his computer was sitting on a couple crates, and the "office" was just one of the rooms in the military's standard modular tents everyone was using until the buildings were finished.

Core necessities had been set up in record time thanks to Jon's alert to Blackbriar. A week after he had talked with Blackbriar's president, Homeworld Command had released their plans, and Blackbriar had submitted their proposal which had been mostly drawn up by Jon. Three days later it had been accepted, and two days after that construction had started.

Jon began typing up an email to Blackbriar requesting earthquake sensing equipment or something like that which would be able to detect vibrations in the ground. Hopefully that would help guard against the worms. Next was an email to the biology team letting them know he was bringing the worm corpse in and he wanted a summary of its eating preferences, estimated speed underground, and general physiology - and he expected it by tomorrow at 1000.

He scanned over his list of projects. Power systems beyond their current generators. Computer systems. Ground clearance - he wanted more than the standard distance cleared back from the fence surrounding the base. Security systems - cameras, IR and motion sensors. Food possibilities from the native plants. Further water wells. Stargate security.

Whew.

Not wanting to dive into paperwork again just yet, he picked up the only personal item he had unpacked - the picture of Cassie and himself she had sent while he was still at the Alpha Site. He had called Cassie a few times each day while he had been in D.C. especially when it became apparent he would be flying straight to Cheyenne Mountain. He had been nearly sick with disappointment - it was the life of military people on the move, but it was still hell.

He smiled, though, at the memory of getting off the military plane to see Cassie waiting for him next to Jack in full regalia. She had launched herself across the tarmac and into his arms. Being able to kiss her and hold her had almost brought tears of joy.

Officially she was there to be re-briefed into the Stargate program as a consultant, and Jon had almost thanked Jack. Not quite, but almost.

Jack's words before he had stepped through the Stargate had been less joyful.

"Money is getting cut to the bone. We're going ahead with base expansions, but these things are going to be shoestring operations. On the plus side, Blackbriar is being sole-sourced for this because of how small the bases are going to be."

Jon winced but nodded. "I've spent the last few days drawing up base plans for Blackbriar. I'll get back to them and tell them to start scaling down and coming up with some inventive approaches."

"Good."

Jack crossed his arms and rocked back on his heels, looking at Jon. Jon almost laughed to see the mirror-familiar behavior.

"All right," Jack finally said. "Sam read me the riot act on this, but I'm still telling you - Cassie is like a daughter to me. _You_\- " Jack poked Jon in the chest, "only spent a couple years and that was all while Janet was still around. Then you were gone and didn't see her again until she was all grown up. I get that. I do."

Jon knew by Jack's tone that he didn't actually 'get it' but rather someone, Sam, had drilled something into him, hard.

"But, _I_have watched her grow up all the way and _I_was there after Janet died and _I_think of her as my daughter. That means," and he poked Jon in the chest again, "_you_are going to make _damn_sure she's happy and never going to have a broken heart. I don't care what sort of crap thoughts you have about being all noble and letting her go for her own good - you are _not_going to make my little girl cry, you got it?"

Jon nodded and then chuckled.

"Not that you have any room to be throwing stones like that. 'Cuz that's exactly what we did for Sam. I heard you even sent her off after some little pissant after I left - probably told yourself it was for her own good, eh?"

Jack glared and Jon noticed one of the guards in the Gate room begin to step forward to separate them, but Jon knew that with Jack glaring, he wasn't going to act. If he were going to act, the glare would have been at Jon down on the ground.

After a second the glare died down and Jack suddenly let out a little chuff of breath.

"Sam pointed out the same thing to me. Look," Jack's tone shifted to a slightly softer tone from the previous "commander giving orders" tone. "Sam's obviously not as smart as everyone thinks because she's happy with me."

Jon smirked and Jack's glare sharpened, daring Jon to make a smart comment.

"I thought Cassie had better tastes in men too," Jack continued. "But since she seems to be blind about this, it means that you make her happy. And _that_means that you don't send her packing for her own good or anything like that. You stay with her no matter what because that's what makes her happy."

Jack took a breath and rubbed the back of his neck.

"At least that's what Sam says."

Jon could identify with Jack's reaction - his own matched it. If it was better for Cassie, Jon would do it, no matter the cost to himself.

"I'll keep that in mind. And I'll make sure she's always safe and happy, don't worry about that."

Jack nodded. They understood each other.

The speaker announced an outgoing wormhole in one minute.

"Good luck," Jack had held out his hand.

"Good luck," Jon had clasped it in return.

Jon shook his head free of the memories and set the picture back down on his 'desk' of crates.

"Miss you, Cassie. Love you," he whispered.

And then he shoved the memories and the aches to the back of his mind and got back to working on the camp.

* * *

**A/N: Ok, ok. I gotta say it. Did ya' noticed what I did at the top of the story? I "wrapped up" the Christmas part. Eh? Eh?**

**Hey! Ouch! Stop it! Stop - ouch! - throwing things! It wasn't _that_ bad of a joke!**


	38. The Ents Are Going To War

**Ya wanna know something that bugs me about the show? Alien planets all over and there was almost squat in the way of alien creatures! So, I'm expanding the variety of alien wildlife here. I'm trying to keep the story focused on the STORY and not all the fun ideas I have for various types of alien creatures, but it's so tempting! I have in mind for this world where Jon's base is to have a plant life that is mobile. Mostly not as mobile as earth animals, but still mobile. Hyper-active genetic change. Extremely thick O and A soil layers. Little bits of particular cultures forming within the base. Etc.**

**But, putting all that and more into the story would tend to distract from the story itself. But good world descriptions are part of what makes things interesting. But too much and it's a distraction. But ... yeah, so I'm trying to find the balance. Sorry if I go too far one way or the other.**

**We're getting back toward the "adventure" aspects of the story. We aren't quite there yet, but we're setting it up, at least.**

**I hope everyone enjoys!**

* * *

"**Treefort", April 29th, 2011**

Krack!

The .30-06 soft tip pierced the woody skin of the elephantine creature and ripped through in a quickly widening wound as it ripped through the brain-equivalent tissue and finally stopped three feet into the creature's "head".

Jon quickly ejected the spent brass and slammed the bolt back in, racking a fresh cartridge. A quick scan of the east side showed only one more creature moving toward the base and four more shots rang out, leaving it to shudder to a halt.

"North side, status," he spoke into his mike.

"All clear. We only had a couple show up, and they charged straight across and into the jungle again. Over."

"Roger. West side, status."

"All clear. Over."

He hadn't expected anything from that side since the stampede had come from the East. Everyone except for one person had been called to the east side to help stop the stampeding creatures.

"Roger. South side, status."

"Downed four big ones and a few smaller ones. Had a few just run across the clearing too. No damage. Over."

"Roger. East side had no damage, but there were at least twenty of them. A few got pretty close. Keep an eye out for more stragglers. Over."

Jon sighed and thanked God for good men. The planet hadn't developed a protein-based life of insects, birds, and mammals like Earth, but it had produced some very, _very_ inventive ways for plants to move. The worm-like creatures/plants weren't a problem once one of the scientists had figured out they hated ultrasonics, but the other megafauna was less easily driven away.

The current bother had almost instantly been named "Elephents", and Jon admitted it was a really good description - four legged tree creatures that moved in herds, walking along on their long leg/trunks. This herd had come thundering through the jungle and only a sharp-eyed sentry had noticing the oddly shaking trees out in the jungle and given warning. The bigger ones seen so far had been as much as twenty five feet tall and estimated at weighing twelve tons on Earth - the first one they had met had walked into the base at night, barely noticing the fence. There had thankfully only been one other interaction with the elephents - two had chased a team for nearly three miles through the jungle, all the way back to the base.

Jon dropped down off the roof of the building where he had quickly climbed for a better shooting location once he heard the alarm.

"Peters," he yelled as he walked back into the command building. With minimal funding for things like cement and other building materials, he had used the planet's trees to build wooden buildings that were much preferable to the tents. "Make sure they clear the elephent piles out right away. I don't want anything to be able to hide in the piles or be attracted to all the sap."

"Yes sir," his latest aide said.

"Don't bother trying to chop it up or drag it away. Just get a piss-load of alcohol and burn the piles where they are. We'll clean up whatever's left. Assign the security guys to do it, and I want extra guards set while they're doing it."

"Yes sir, right away sir."

Jon sighed. The guy was a godsend - a Britain lieutenant who genuinely enjoyed paperwork. However, he clearly had no intention of calling anyone above him anything but 'Sir'.

Jon set the rifle down and Peters whisked it away with a murmur about having the armoury clean it. Jon turned to the three biologists still sitting in his office, looking shaken.

"All clear. It was a herd of elephents, at least thirty or forty. They were stampeding but we stopped them short of the fence."

They nodded in relief.

"So, you guys want a DNA sequencer?" Jon resumed their interrupted topic. "Ain't gonna happen unless you guys have some private strings you can pull. The budget is just about to snap as it is. Why not send it over to the SGC - don't they have something like that?"

"No, they don't have something like that. They have to send out to do that, and they don't do it for 'non-operational purposes'." The woman's mouth twisted in disgust at the words.

"I realize that the current budget doesn't have funds for a machine," one of the other two said. "But, as we described to you, we absolutely need to use one. The DNA analog used in this biology is absolutely beyond belief in its mutability and its mutation speed. We're talking about a mutation rate that must be a hundred thousand times higher than what happens on Earth, and yet they aren't drowning in harmful genetic mutations either. This could be the cure for every genetic disease out there!"

Jon nodded in agreement. "Sounds great, but that doesn't change the facts. You've said the cheapest one is a half million dollars. We are out of money. Period. The science budget is already nearly two hundred thousand over budget, which as you surely remember from the budget meetings a month ago, is being pulled from operational equipment."

All three of them began to object, but Jon overrode them. He was coming down off his adrenaline rush from the attack and his temper was … stretching. He realized adrenaline was at least part of his irritation at the moment, but that was only a small help in keeping his temper under control.

"Enough! Complaining and objecting isn't going to change anything. Unless you have some constructive ideas on how to fund such a large purchase, there's no point in talking."

The three scientists all looked like they had just swallowed lemons, but they slowly shook their heads.

"Fine. Either plan on submitting it for next year or figure out some way to carve a half million from the science budget. If you can do that, I'd be all ears."

Jon knew it wasn't about to happen since their budget was barely over three hundred thousand a year and had already been spent on equipment they had also insisted they needed. They probably had needed it all, too. In keeping with what he understood of Jack's plans he always bent over backwards to get the science and research people what they wanted, including going so far as to raid the base's meager budget.

A half million, though?

Jon held in a snort at the thought as the three scientists walked out.

Nothing he could do for something like that. He let out a breath and tried to calm himself.

'_Ungrateful eggheads!_'

Some days he was almost ready to chuck this job and go back to making security trips.

A familiar picture caught his attention and he smiled. Next to the first picture Cassie had sent him was a second one she had sent through a month ago, taken that Christmas Eve night, or technically Christmas morning. Before they had left Jack's, Sam had insisted on getting a 'family picture'. Everyone had been in it, including the non-team members like him, Cassie, and Trisha.

He and Cassie had been on one end, and Cassie had her head leaning against his chest with a very pleased smile on her face. He and Jack had almost identical small smirks, and Vala was in the middle of placing a dramatic kiss on Daniel's cheek - Daniel in mid-outraged reaction.

Oh, how Jon loved that picture.

His eyes were drawn back to Cassie's face and his thumb rubbed the glass over her face. Cassie was kicking ass back in Stanford, apparently all but ignoring her classes needed for her Masters and still passing with flying colors while working on her doctorate, two papers, and some research project with recombining … DNA …

A smirk grew. He might be able to get some of those biologists their DNA sequenced after all. It wouldn't be an official request to have materials sequenced - instead it would be calling in a consultant to examine some findings. If she just so happened to sequence the DNA as part of her examination, all the happier!

Jon pulled up his email and began putting together an official meeting request with Cassandra Frasier here on Treefort. The more he thought about it, the more excited he became. He'd have a chance to see her again! He'd been tempted to try to make up some reason to return to Earth, but had never been able to talk himself into it - he genuinely had too much to do here on base to be able to leave for a few days for personal reasons. But bringing Cassie here? And for perfectly good reasons?! Yes!

He'd need to do a request to send alien biological samples to Earth, too. She'd want to take the materials back for examination, of course, and she'd want to do all sorts of tests including trying to sequence the DNA analogue.

He chortled at the thought of everything working together so nicely!

Movement caught his attention out of the corner of his eye. "Peters! Get those three started on the paperwork for sending a sample or two to Earth for some expert consultation."

"Yes sir. And sir, there are some Eyes Only reports here that came through the Stargate from Earth during the excitement with the Ents."

"Great. What do they say? Anything important?"

"They are 'Eyes Only' for you, sir. I wouldn't know."

Jon smirked as he finished the email. Peters was starting to figure out Jon's serious and not-so-serious statements - his dry English response here was a marked improvement over the slightly panicked protestations he had made the first time Jon had asked him the question.

"Oh," he laced his tone with disappointment. "You're gonna make me read them myself?"

"I dare say you will not unduly suffer for the exertion, sir."

"You don't know how horrible those reports are."

"I'm sure."

Jon chuckled as Peters left, and then clicked send on the meeting request. He wanted to write a personal communication to Cassie, but in spite of his cavalier words to Peters, Top Secret Eyes Only communications from Earth were important. Usually.

He grabbed the first and opened the outer envelope, signed the acceptance form inside, then opened the inner envelope to pull out the thin sheaf of papers.

Jon's face tightened as he read the summary page.

'_Well, I wondered about it, and now I know._'

The person Jon had seen tied up with the alien tech years back in the jungles of Guatemala was an alien. Furthermore he was an alien of the same type that had tried to kidnap Jon and his team and infiltrated the Alpha Site. Not only that, but the aliens had also managed to get a person into the SGC, though only as one of the airmen serving as security. They had somehow replaced the original airman up to six months before he was discovered.

Aliens, apparently hostile, were on Earth and had temporarily infiltrated the Stargate program, and if Jon was any judge of tone in reports, all of Homeworld security was up in arms. Jon wondered if they were focused solely on the Stargate program or if they were also infiltrating politics and business.

Crap that was a scary thought - able to physically disguise themselves perfectly. Replacing people.

The report implemented orders that monthly testing immediately be implemented to verify the identity of all base personnel. The orders were sent to the base medical chief and chief of security. A doctor would be coming through to verify testing was being done in a week.

Dang, but they were serious about this! Good thing, too, in Jon's opinion.

The rest of the report covered the capabilities of the weapons Jon had found. Antimatter shot out, encased within a magnetic sphere that would break apart upon sufficient impact resistance, leaving the antimatter to explode - only a tiny, tiny fraction of a gram was needed per shot.

It was stated that the explosion Jon had caused in Guatemala could have been several tens of thousands times larger, but the weapons had numerous safeguards against total exposure of the antimatter.

Jon's hands shook for a moment as he realized what he have very nearly done.

Jon eventually set it aside and pulled open the second Eyes Only report. It was likely an expansion on the first … er, nope.

His brow furrowed as he worked his way through the report. A nasty flu? This was important enough for …. Oh.

Seven of the nine new bases had been hit with the same flu-like virus, but it hadn't hit the SGC, Alpha, or Gamma sites. Seven different worlds, all hit with the exact same virus without touching the connection points of the major sites - SGC believed it was a purposeful release. Only "Treefort" and "Steve" had been spared, so far, and "Steve" was all underground which Jon suspected made it harder to infect.

Instructions to watch for potential attempts to infiltrate or infect. Vector was presumed to be airborne. Release must have been wide. Symptoms were gone after roughly twenty four hours. Only two deaths out of close to seven hundred known infected.

Jon poured over the details as best he could, wishing he had Cassie here to query for more details and background knowledge. The other biologists would probably know enough to answer his questions, but none of them had the same brilliant insights that Cassie had which made conversations with her so much more helpful. He was spending hours on this and Cassie could probably grasp the whole thing in a speed reading pass.

He eventually dropped the second report next to the first and stared at them for a long moment. The first had been compiled over the course of years, while the second was from something that was only a few days old. There was no reason to assume they were linked just because the reports landed on his desk at the same time, and yet ….

He shrugged. He'd need to think on that. For now, he needed to implement the testing regime and increase security to be on the lookout for anything that might be an attempt to infect the base. He'd need to call in Drew for the security and their med chief for the testing.

Jon went to type emails and saw one already waiting for him from Dr. Sanderson, their med chief. Yeah, he had received the reports as well and wanted a meeting. Good. He replied back that he wanted to meet in thirty minutes, and then he sent off an email to Drew to meet in thirty minutes.

In the mean time he wanted to think. He pulled out the yo-yo Cassie had given him and smiled. It had been a crazily busy five months since he'd had to leave her, and while it certainly kept him busy, he couldn't ever keep his mind off her for long. They'd sent letters and gifts back and forth through civilian channels on a weekly basis. They'd even sent a few "official" communications back and forth, scraping the bottom of the barrel for any excuse.

'_Dang it! Come on Jon, get your head back in the game!_'

Meeting request for Cassie was done, and he'd use the opportunity to bounce off some ideas about this alien flu bug that they were suffering - see if there was any connection to the mystery alien infiltrators.

Suddenly a thought occurred to Jon. Coincidence. If he were trying to release an airborne thing, a distraction like a stampede of elephents would be just about perfect.

Fuck waiting for the meeting. He snatched up the phone.

* * *

Eighteen hours later Jon groaned and rolled his shoulders as he made scanned the early morning surroundings from the observation tower in the middle of the base. The alien bug had hit, and hit hard. Jon was one of only three people out of the seventy two people on base that weren't puking and shivering while hooked up to IVs. A dozen people seemed to be resisting the sickness better than others, but only marginally.

The SGC had sent through SG-7 and SG-11 to help run the base and care for the sick. They had already suffered from the sickness when they had been at the Chinese's base "Penglai" and been infected. It was hoped that they were now immune, and this was to be their first test of that. However, twelve extra people hadn't truly been enough to handle everything, and Jon had alternated between doing base security and helping with the sick.

He'd had plenty to keep his mind occupied as well. Drew had run a team to scout all around the western side of the camp and had found evidence of intruders. Footprints and signs of several large objects set up in the jungle near the edge of the cleared ground around the base.

No other clues, but Jon had been ready to send out a full search team to comb the area and a few scouts to try to track them back when the base began coming down sick.

"Commander, it looks like the SG teams are coming down with the bug again."

"Got it. I'll give them all orders to report in as soon as they start feeling the effects which should be pretty darned soon. Get ready for them. Over."

'_Just peachy. It's been fourteen hours since we started getting hit with it, and symptoms last for twenty six hours almost on the dot. Twelve more hours to go. And apparently previous exposure doesn't give someone future immunity._'

He keyed his radio and passed along orders to the SG teams.

"Gonna be a long day," he muttered.

Right on target with the disease's previous behavior, at the twenty six hour mark everyone began feeling better and within another two hours were back on their feet feeling almost back to normal, just tired. The biologists were extremely excited to see that the SG teams recovered at nearly the exact same time as everyone else even though they were exposed many hours later.

Jon called a meeting to get initial reports and pass on instructions and procedures the SGC had sent through. He wrapped it up as quickly as he could - there was a nightmare's worth of things to do, all of it ASAP.

"Alright, peoples. That covers everything. Action items:

"SGC gave us orders - full blood and fluid samples from everyone, absolutely everyone. Dr. Sanderson, you're in charge of making sure everyone provides samples, including our SG teams. You said you had blood drawn from some of the people while they were sick?"

Dr. Sanderson nodded. "Ok, tag those and send them as well. I'm sure they'd love to have samples taken while sick as well as after we've recovered."

"Drew, get teams back out there to see if you can find anything where you saw the tracks before. See if you can track them back, but be careful - they've had plenty of time to get away or set up an ambush. Just figure out where they went. Take a full suite of sensors with you. I want every last byte of information gathered."

Dr. Sanderson interjected. "Mr. Thompson, please have everyone give their samples before you send them."

Jon and Drew nodded.

"Major Ma, Major Drake, we greatly appreciate your assistance here. I'll be joining you and your SG teams on the return to the SGC. You'll be taking the samples back, and I've got a few reports to give in person."

The two soldiers nodded their understanding.

"Any questions? No? Then let's get going."

Jon returned to his desk and began typing a report as quickly as he could. It helped to put his own thoughts in order for the grilling he was certain to go through once he got to the SGC. Two hours later but still all too soon for the report to be done, Drew was knocking on his door.

"Jon? We're back from the search of the setup area. Trackers are still following their trail."

Jon stepped back from his computer. "Find anything?"

"A few fibers caught on thorns," he pulled out a small plastic baggie, "trace amounts of some sort of radiation - the eggheads will need to say what kind, and the biggest find - " he pulled out a small vial. "Spit!"

Jon looked at him with skepticism and Drew shrugged. "Yeah, it's not much. We took a bunch of pictures, but they were good and didn't leave much behind other than prints. The equipment left large and deep imprints. I'll send you the pictures, but I'd guess at least four or five hundred pounds per item, and there were four items. As far as how many people - I wouldn't guess more than a dozen, maybe even as few as eight. The track around each equipment imprint didn't look like a lot of different people."

Jon thought of the levitating vehicle he'd seen in Guatemala.

"I'd bet they had something to levitate the equipment. Four or five hundred pounds per item and only two or three people to cart it through heavy jungle? That's a nightmare. Any idea of how long they were hidden out there?"

"A couple hours at least. There were spots where they were sitting for a while."

Jon nodded and thought for a minute before shaking his head. He had some ideas he thought were pretty solid, but they didn't have solid proof.

"Drew, give me your best guess on what happened out there."

Drew blew out a breath. "Timing with the sickness is too much to be coincidence. They brought some sort of disease and … I dunno, sprayed it at us for a couple hours? Maybe had a second team herding the elephents into a stampede at us to provide the distraction. We run semi-random patrols through the surrounding jungle every few hours. They wanted to make sure they had time."

"That was about my thought," Jon nodded. "And … well, it's disturbing on a lot of levels."

He had been about to start talking about some of his theories, but Drew had to be focused on their base's security, not worried about larger issues that might be at play.

"Ok, I want patrols stepped up, still random, and spread them further out from the base. Send equipment to find anything they might be trying to sneak in for observation. If you have any other ideas, bring 'em to me - I want to make sure we don't get hit like this again. I don't know what they're up to, but they could have launched an attack during our sickness and we would have been all but defenseless. I don't want them to have the opportunity if they decide to attack at some point."

Drew grimaced and Jon knew it was going to be hard on the security teams, but he didn't see any other options.

"You got it. I'll see about maybe getting a few IR sensors spread around out there since I think we have some extras. We'll keep 'em rotating around since we don't have enough to blanket the area."

"Sounds good. Thanks, Drew."

Jon checked his watch and turned back to his report. He had forty five minutes to finish this before he had to go through the Gate back to Earth. He needed to get a shower and look presentable, too. Two straight days of high alert had just about wiped him out and he was pretty sure he smelled like it.

"I wonder if Jack has to write reports. Probably not. That or he has an aide write them. Lucky bastard," he muttered to himself as he began writing out their initial enhanced security measures.

* * *

**A/N: ... yeah, no author notes here. I'm just playing with you.**


	39. Lions and Tigers and Bears! Oh my!

**All right ladies and gentlemen! What time is it? It's time for fun with Jon!**

**Quick quiz - does everyone hate the IOA and the groups like them in the show? How many of you think the IOA was an exaggerated 'bad guy' on the show?**

**Well guess what - real life government agencies (at least in the USA) work a lot more like the IOA than they do like the SGC. Sad but true. Politics, power grabs, petty pride, laziness, CYA, etc - there are good public servants out there, but there are far more of them that work like the IOA.**

**I just wanted to put that disclaimer on here just in case anyone was tempted to think I'm making the IOA into some bad guys here - no, I'm just portraying them realistically.**

* * *

An hour and a half later Jon walked into briefing room six of the SGC to see General Landry, Jack, and two men in suits he didn't recognize. He was thankful he had decided not to skip the shower even if the report wasn't as complete as it could have been.

He had also just been re-tested for being non-alien. The moment he stepped through he had been escorted to the infirmary for the DNA test. He remembered the new CMO from the Christmas Eve party at Jack's house, and while she wasn't Dr. Frasier, she had seemed competent. She hadn't even stuck him with a needle, so he was cautiously approving of her.

Jack started with a brief introduction. "Jon, you know General Landry. This is James Gallows, Director of IOA, and Cary Smith, head of IOA's Counter Incursion department.

"Jon, give us the run-down of what happened at P5-, eh, Treefort."

Jon nodded and began. "I submitted my initial report and it should be waiting once it gets processed with the other incoming from Treefort. At 0200 Earthtime on April 29th, we had a stampede of creatures we've named 'elephents' which we believe was a diversion …."

For the next twenty minutes Jon gave his verbal report and answered basic questions about the exact events. About fifteen minutes into it, an airman delivered a large stack of reports for each of the people in the room which Jon recognized as printouts of the reports from Treefort, including his.

"Thank you, Jon. We'll have to study these reports, and we'll expect full reports later."

Jon hid a grimace, but Jack seemed to understand his thoughts and with a subtle tilt of his head and quirk of his lip let Jon know he was sorry to require them.

"Gallows, Smith," Jack turned to the two IOA agents. "Your turn."

Gallows, the IOA Director, started. "For the last two years we've been seeing signs of very discrete alien activity on Earth. Jon was involved in the first major exposure, but there had been a few minor incidents a couple months before then that suggested aliens were acting on Earth. Since the incident in Guatemala we've had fairly regular signs of their activity.

"The discovery of Ba'al's existence on Earth was at first thought to be the cause. He was stopped, or the clone of him was stopped, and a few more clones have been discovered since then. However, three different patterns of alien activities on Earth have suggested Ba'al was not the only one. The Lucian Alliance was determined to be behind _some_ of the other actions, but there have been a remaining collection of events which have not been tied to the Alliance or Ba'al and do not fit their typical modus operandi.

"We have a third actor here on Earth. We've come to the opinion that this actor is the same as the aliens which infiltrated the Alpha site, Gamma site, and SGC. Cary here will give you the details of what we've been finding."

Cary Smith, a small man with a very shrewd look to his eyes began detailing the actions and capabilities associated with the infiltrating aliens. Some of the details Jon knew about - their ability to make doppelgangers with DNA technology, internal suicide switches, energy weapons, personal shields. Others he hadn't heard of - poison secretions, subdermal subspace communicators, excellent stealth technology. Others were only suspected - some sort of rapid information extraction from humans that aided in their doppelganger replacements.

"We think they can extract specific items of information from their victims minds, but not larger or more vague things. So they can get passwords, but not behavior traits; names but not levels of friendship. But, they are exhaustive in what they can extract.

"We were clued into the Pentagon and White House infiltrations by the parents of someone in the Pentagon - the parents work in the IC and noted a sudden change in their daughter's behavior. They were worried that someone might be trying to blackmail or threaten her for information, and they reported it to security. When security went to question her she had a heart attack," he put the term in air quotes.

"That's what alerted the IOA. We immediately started a DNA check of Pentagon staff. We caught two people and five more suddenly disappeared. We haven't caught any of those, so far. After that we began testing across the military and the White House, and two people disappeared from the White House staff, and then six from Homeworld Security. One was caught having infiltrated the SGC here in the mountain. The IOA's security has kept us clean so far.

"We are being infiltrated on a massive scale. The IOA absolutely must be in charge of making sure such an infiltration doesn't happen anywhere in the Stargate program, military, or political arenas."

General Landry and Jack began to growl objections, "Ain't gonna - "

Director Gallows interjected. "Security structures are something still being worked out," he tried soothingly. "Our goals for the immediate future are to make everyone aware of the threat, including base directors. Your base is the first to find any useful sign of the attackers so we're sending over a team of forensic investigators to find the things your teams missed."

Jon's eyes narrowed a little but he let it slide.

"I understand. They'll be given full support for their search."

"Terrific! They are gathering their equipment and should be here in twelve hours." The IOA director stood up, closing his notepad. "It was good to meet you, Jon. Good work at your base, I'm sure."

Jon nodded his thanks and watched the two IOA men leave. Jack slapped General Landry on the back, "I'll catch up in a bit." General Landry nodded and left, closing the door behind him.

Jack let loose a sigh. "Politics."

Jon smirked, "Better you than me."

The glare Jack gave in return hardly deserved the name and Jon suddenly was worried.

"How's Sam?"

"She's still at Atlantis and enjoying it, believe it or not - life-sucking super aliens bent on consuming humans, a race of advanced Replicators ready to wipe everyone out - she's having a ball."

Jon laughed at the expression on Jack's face. "She'll kick their ass, she always does."

Jack smiled a little at that, but still appeared pensive. Jon shrugged to himself. Jack could handle whatever it was.

"So what's up?"

"IOA. Power-grubbing idiots. Just giving you a heads up - if I know them they're going to do their best to sink their fangs into Treefort. They've been clawing to get at the bases since we've managed to thoroughly block them from the SGC itself. This threat is their route to gaining a foothold out there. So far we've managed to keep them Earth-bound, and I want to keep it that way. I do _not_ want them running things out in the rest of the galaxy."

Jon nodded. He didn't know all the details that Jack knew, but he was familiar with the IOA's behavior.

"I'll keep my guard up."

"Good."

The silence stretched for a moment and Jon tried breaking it again. "How are Teal'c and Trisha?"

A decidedly sly look stole across Jack's face and Jon knew that something was going exactly right. He wouldn't be so blatant with his feelings on something like that unless it were going _very_ well indeed.

"Well, you know the Jaffa. Bunch of people kept by the goa'uld to a level barely above barbarians and just tooling around in whatever tech they've managed to scavenge. Teal'c is pulling them together for whatever that's worth."

Jon burst out in laughter.

"You sly old bastard! I'm not even going to ask what they're up to because I'm almost afraid to find out! Oh God! Teal'c and Trisha left alone with a few billion Jaffa, thousands of worlds, and tech that leaves most of the Earth in the dust. Yeah, I can't imagine how they could accomplish anything worthwhile. Might as well not even check up on 'em, right?"

"Of course I check up on 'em!" Jack sounded horribly offended. "He's a friend, so we pass messages back and forth every once in a while."

Jon snorted.

"Gotch'ya. Just old friends passing notes about the weather."

"Yup."

Jon shook his head. "So what's eatin' ya? Sounds like things are going tolerably well."

Jack gave him a sour look and Jon knew exactly what he was thinking.

"Yeah, yeah. It's cheating to ask direct questions. We cheat. It's what we do."

"I'm gonna retire."

"Again? How many times did we try to retire before I split? How many times since then?"

Jack flipped him a middle finger. "Nothing is stopping me from retiring other than getting the Stargate program ready for public consumption. I'm just tired of it and it feels like I'm counting down the days. You know - the closer you get to your goal the longer each minute seems to take. I've been dealing with politics for years now - not my favorite thing to do - and now there's a light at the end of the tunnel. I'm getting impatient and it's getting harder to put up with crap from the IOA and the thousands of other power blocs out there."

"And having Sam gone makes it drag all the more."

Jack very carefully didn't respond to Jon's suggestion and Jon knew he'd touched on the base of the problem.

"Hey, Jon, how about you stay on base. You look like shit."

"Love you too, old man." But, Jon then sighed. "Actually I will take you up on that. I was just going to head back to base and sleep. I'll need to send a couple messages through with the next scheduled wormhole, but after that, yeah, I'll take you up on your offer."

Jack nodded and stood up. "I'll let Hank know. Hey, how's Cassie doing?"

Jon looked at his older self with suspicion. "Good. Kicking DNA ass. Why?"

"Just checking up. She's been too busy for more than a text message recently."

Jon wondered if Jack had seen his request for Cassie to come to Treefort for a consultation. Well he could go sit and swivel - there was a perfectly solid reason for her to come, and if he was able to squeeze in a little time to see her, that was just a side benefit.

Jack didn't say anything more and Jon let it drop as well.

He sent several messages to be passed through to Treefort with the next scheduled wormhole, and he found General Landry had assigned the VIP guest quarters for him to use. He sank down on the bed and barely had enough energy to strip off his clothes in a pile before crawling into the bed.

* * *

The first Jon realized something was wrong was when his bed shifted. He knew he was in the SGC, but the SGC had been threatened far too often to relax completely. There was a form looming over him and Jon instantly reacted - a throw of the blankets with one hand covered the attacker while his other hand grabbed and yanked. The person collapsed and was rolled into the blankets, beginning to struggle and yell, though it was muffled.

A quick scan of the room showed there was only the one attacker, and Jon jumped over the struggling form to reach his pistol still stowed in its holster in his pile of clothes. He cursed himself for his sloppiness in going to bed. He only had a second to get the weapon out of its holster from inside a tangled pile of clothes in the dark before the attacker would be on him.

"Jon! Mmpph! Jon!"

Jon had just started scrabbling through his pile of clothes when his attacker's voice became clear.

He looked up in shock to see Cassie's head poking out of the blankets.

"Oh!"

Jon sat back on the carpet, suddenly shaky.

"Jon, I'm sorry! I - unh - just got in." She heaved herself up and pushed aside the blankets, sitting up. The minor lights in the room were just enough that Jon could see her worried expression.

'_What the hell did she think she was doing? I could have hurt her!_'

"What are you doing here," here barked, scowling.

"You wanted me to come. A couple airmen collected me from Stanford in a rush and popped me onto a plane here."

"Oh." Jon's thoughts were running in circles, and he stood up to buy some time.

'_What is she doing here? I barely sent the request - _' he looked at the clock on the wall - '_... oh, thirteen hours ago?_'

He ran through the timeline. Request went through to the SGC when he did. He'd taken thirty minutes to get through the medical test. Forty minutes for the meeting. Twenty to type of instructions back to …

He shook his head. He was following rabbit trails of thought. He'd been asleep for nearly nine hours. The request must have been rushed through and Cassie brought out right away.

Cassie. He was staring at her crossly while his mind spun, coming up from sleep and rushing with adrenaline. He realized he was just standing with legs splayed and arms on his hips in front of her, and she was looking nervously at him and then away.

'_No clothes. Right._'

"Sorry." He grabbed his BDUs and pulled them on. "I just was wasn't expecting you so quickly, or … in my room."

Cassie winced and looked down. "Sorry. I didn't mean to startle you. Jack said …. Um."

The word 'Jack' clicked in Jon's mind and suddenly things began to fall into place.

"Ah, Jack. He must have rushed through my request."

It finally dawned on him that Cassie was still sitting there nervously knotting the blanket that still covered her legs.

He grabbed her under the arms and pulled her up off the bed and into a hug. She flung her arms and legs around him in return, burying her face in his shoulder. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do something wrong. I thought …. I'm sorry." Jon could hear tears in her voice and his chest clenched.

"Hey, hey. It's not a problem. I was just startled. I wasn't upset, even. Well I was, but not at you. I was pissed at - " his mind cast for a quick scapegoat. " - Jack. He should have known better than to send you in here. You - I'm glad to see you!"

Cassie hugged him tighter, her head still buried in his neck.

"I was so excited to see you I just didn't think. I just seem to mess everything up."

Jon nuzzled Cassie's head, laying kisses across hair and neck. He didn't know what else to do.

She raised her head and latched onto his lips, kissing him back with a fierce abandon. Jon plunged into the kiss and rubbed his hands across her back before dipping down to grasp her ass. She squeezed her legs around his waist as she pressed her kisses more fiercely still. He reveled in the soft skin of her thighs against his bare torso and ran a hand along her bare leg.

'_Oh. Oh. Jon you're an idiot. Even for being sleep-addled._' It dawned on him what Cassie had been thinking about when she had started crawling into the bed. Jack had probably set it up - telling her he was napping or something and letting her into the room. She might have wanted to pleasantly surprise him and … he'd reacted. Badly. She was probably embarrassed. Jon knew he would have been if their positions had been reversed.

He pulled back from the kiss and rubbed his hand down the length of her bare thigh and back up, kneading her buttocks through her thin panties.

"Well dang. Now I'm really wishing I hadn't reacted so badly," he said, wry humor coloring his tone.

"It was my fault. I shouldn't have been so stupid."

"Whoa! No! If that was stupid, then I want you to be stupid lots and lots," Jon objected.

Cassie giggled and pecked him on the lips. "You say the sweetest things, you know."

"Well, maybe that wasn't one of my better lines." He returned the peck, loving to be able to feel her and give little bits of affection. His head had cleared from its sudden and violent awakening and he was enjoying her presence again after so long an absence.

'_Unfortunately ..._'

He kissed her again and stood up with her still in his arms. "Unfortunately I slept for far too long and there are things to do. And yes, I did want you to come. I didn't expect you to get here so soon, but I am overjoyed you have."

She raked her nails up his back and grinned at him. Even in the darkness her eyes were sparkling. He groaned as a finger of desire started stirring deep in his stomach.

"So, how soon do you need to be out doing stuff?" Her voice was soft and low and she accompanied her words with a squeeze of her legs, pressing her mound against his abs.

'_Maybe our first time doesn't need to be quite so perfect. Maybe a quickie … No. We'll carve out time while she's here for more than just - _'

"Twenty minutes. People I need to meet are arriving any minute and I need to catch an outgoing wormhole in twenty minutes."

He saw her face fall as the math worked out against them. "Oh."

She relaxed her legs, but Jon held her up for a moment longer, kissing her again, tongues tangling and dancing together for a minute before he set her down.

"You're coming with me, though."

"What? Where?"

"P5X-707, affectionately known as Treefort. At least, I assume you can come. I'm not sure what they told you, but we need your genetics expertise and then we have some samples we'd … well, I'll tell you about it once we have a few minutes back on Treefort. Can you come?"

Cassie grinned a little. "Certainly I can. Over and over, in fact."

A picture of Cassie, pinned up against a wall with him buried deep inside her as she came, yelling his name flashed into his head.

Cassie's expression was decidedly smug when he refocused on her.

"Ahem, well I'll make sure you do," Jon finally managed to croak. "Excellent. Um, dressed. We'll need to get dressed."

Cassie touched his cheek with a hand as she stretched up to peck him on the lips before turning to walk away. Jon's eyes dropped to her ass as he watched her walk across the room, the hem of her shirt playing peek-a-boo with her panties. When she got to her pile of clothes she stripped her shirt off and Jon let loose a whoosh of air even though he couldn't see much in the darkness - his imagination was providing plenty. She reached down to pick up her bra and then looked back over her shoulder as she began to put it on.

"Dressed? We're getting dressed? Twenty minutes until gate time?"

"It's your fault if we're late," he said and then cleared his throat - his voice hoarse. He quickly grabbed his clothes and began pulling them on.

Two minutes later they stepped out and began walking down the hall toward the Gate room. If the IOA team had arrived in time, they'd have to be there. If not, then Jon wasn't about to go looking for them. As he walked he was delightfully aware of Cassie at his side. He hoped he looked as casual and composed as she did. Her blouse, jeans, and tennis shoes certainly stood out in the BDU-infested halls, but she didn't seem to be self-conscious, striding at his side with her leather satchel over her shoulder.

As they walked into the Gate room, four people were gathered with a small pile of equipment and cases. Jon strode over.

"You guys the forensics team? I'm Jon O'Neill, base commander."

One of the men stepped forward. "I'm agent Stephen Colezar, security chief. These are Tom Ashbough, Bob Thomas, and Lindsay Jenner, all on loan from the CID's forensic department," he introduced them.

"Good to meet you all. This is Cassandra Frasier," he gestured to Cassie, "a special consultant in genetics."

He noticed Jack appear up in the control room and shifted his back to the control room and scratched his butt with his middle finger. Jack would notice.

"A pleasure to meet you Miss Frasier." Colezar turned back to Jon. "We'll also be reviewing the security procedures of the base along with examining the site. We'll be providing a list of recommendations to you before we submit them - give you a bit of a heads up as to what the new security requirements will be."

Jon gave a snort of laughter. "Right. The IOA must have been scraping the bottom of the barrel when they picked you for this. Do your forensic thing and we'll ship you back here to the SGC. We don't have the resources to babysit you while you play politics. You'll head back out here on the next scheduled Stargate." Jon patted the guy on the shoulder. "Don't worry, though. They weren't actually expecting you to accomplish anything."

"We've been authorized by the chief of the counter infiltration department to - "

Jon stepped past the man, presenting his back to the protestations. He held out his hand and shook hands with the anxiously confused forensic technicians.

"I'll welcome you to Treefort now while we're waiting for the Stargate. We have some extremely dangerous megafauna to watch out for, so make sure you listen to the security. There are two of them in particular you're going to need to be aware of. We have a creature that's two to four times the size of an elephant and is extremely foul-tempered. We've had a scouting team nearly trampled, and our base just recently withstood a major stampede of the creatures - would have trampled every building flat if they had made it through our defenses. You'll be outside our defenses, so if your security team says to run, then you guys drop everything and run back to base as fast as you can."

The man behind him had stopped talking, and the three in front of him were looking decidedly nervous.

"They aren't the most dangerous, though. They usually make enough noise that we can hear them if they come close. The worms are more dangerous. They tunnel through the dirt and come up underneath you. No warning until the last second when they burrow up under your feet. If one of them appears, there's not much you can do. Jump out of the way, I guess. Our security teams are very heavily armed and we can kill them with concentrated machine gun fire."

One the technicians, Jon thought it might be Bob, looked like he might be about to faint.

"Anyone seen the cheesy old horror movie _Tremors_?"

'_Ah, that makes sense._'

Bob had tentatively raised a hand.

"Yup, then you know exactly what they're like. They track vibrations in the ground. Standing still doesn't help, though, since they just zero in on where it last sensed you. Thankfully none of our people have been killed by them, but we have had a few feet and legs … well, no one has died. We're going to do our best to make sure you guys are safe too. Don't worry."

Now all three of them looked like they were about to puke.

The loudspeaker suddenly blared out, "_One minute to Stargate activation._"

Bob suddenly bent over and began spewing the contents of his stomach on the floor.

Jon jumped away and took the moment to return to Cassie.

"Jon! That was horrible," Cassie whispered. "Why did you do that to them? How much of that was true?"

"Tell you later. All of it was true … from a certain perspective."

Jon looked over at the four people accompanying them. They were gathering their gear up, Bob was looking grey but still grabbing equipment with the rest of them while a soldier stood near the mess on the floor, waiting for a clean up crew. Jon was interested to see that the IOA agent looking nervous too. Good. He obviously hadn't been briefed out the planet itself - just what he was supposed to do.

A moment later the Stargate began to spin, chevron after chevron locking into place until finally a flash of light filled the huge circle and an eruption of blue foam exploded out before settling into the familiar shimmering blue. Jon stole a look at Cassie next to him and smiled at the delighted expression on her face.

"My lady," he said softly, gesturing forward.

Her cheek dimpled a little with her smile but her focus never left the Stargate. "So amazing," she breathed before walking up the ramp and into the wormhole.

He heard the others walk up behind him. He schooled his face to a grave seriousness and placed his hand on the pistol holstered to his thigh.

"Alright ladies and gentlemen," he made his voice as intense as he could. "We're going to be just fine as long as you listen to security. We've been surviving for months now. You'll be fine." He took a deep breath and blew it back out. "Let's go."

Jon turned and walked up the ramp, smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.


	40. What Could Go Wrong?

**Sorry for the delay. This weekend was crazy busy and I didn't get any writing done. But, to make it up, I've put in an extra large chapter here. Once again I'm trying to balance the 'right' amount of background world building of an alien planet so that it's not just Earth-in-a-different-location, and yet doesn't take over the rest of the story with long descriptions.**

**If y'all got any questions or spot any bizarre inconsistencies in the world, please do let me know. I'll appreciate your critiques and try to make the story better going on.**

**Awe hell, who am I kidding? ****I'll yell and scream at you for daring to suggest my world is anything less than perfectly genius, and**** then hate you for the rest of your miserable, maggot-ridden life. I'll maybe even name a character for you and have him horribly die in the story.**

**Comments are welcome.**

**;-)**

* * *

**Treefort, April 30th, 2011**

Cassie let out a breath as she stepped out of the Stargate and took in the room. Wooden walls and ceiling surrounded her, the wood a light tan that seemed to be iridescent somewhere deep within. Small windows were scattered around the building, tall and thin - too small for anything but a child to fit through and glass-paned. The windows were dark, but large lights were set up inside the room making everything bright.

The room was close to a hundred feet long she guessed, and thirty feet tall to accommodate the Stargate and its stand. In front and to the sides, were two wooden barricades with heavy machine guns emplaced.

A tall, thin man with skin as dark as Teal'c's came forward at a trot.

"Ma'am, Drew Thompson, head of Treefort security. We need you to come with us. We're expecting an attack any minute."

Cassie's mouth opened in surprise but before she could reply, a plop sounded behind her and Jon appeared through the wormhole.

She looked at him, worried, but Jon was merely shaking his head at the man and thumbing behind him.

'_What's going on here?_'

Jon jogged forward a few steps and caught her elbow. "I'll take care of Miss Frasier, y'all take care of the people coming."

With that, the Stargate deposited the remaining four people in the room. Jon led her forward as the tall black man repeated his words to the IOA man and the forensics team.

As they were leaving the Stargate building a roar of gunfire split the night air off to the side. Cassie and the others all jumped, but she noticed Jon and … Drew? … didn't so much as twitch.

"What was -" the IOA man started, but Drew interrupted. "Don't worry. Nothing's getting into the base as long as we can see it."

Cassie was beginning to get a little worried. As they walked through the base, she could see pairs of soldiers patrolling inside the base and each tower around the edge had spotlights and machine guns mounted, scanning the cleared field surrounding the base. She had thought Jon was running some sort of prank at first, scaring the newcomers, but with the security showing here, it wasn't a prank - they really were at a state of full-blown combat!

In spite of the danger, she marveled at the buildings - all made of wood, even in the darkness she could tell they were beautiful. Lamps made ever-shifting pools of rich warmth on the wood. The buildings were utilitarian in design, made in basic rectangles, but the log cabin design gave them a softer look. She couldn't wait to see them in daylight.

Jon was giving them a quick run-down of the layout as they walked. The Stargate was situated near the center in a massive building, with no other buildings for a hundred feet around it. Surrounding it were the science halls, command center, and the canteen. Cassie was familiar enough with the military to know these weren't normal military terms being used and she filed it as another question to ask Jon - she would have expected it to be named more in line with military nomenclature. She'd been a bit surprised even at the name of the place, "Treefort".

The workshop and motor pool were pointed out and the barracks where they would be staying were just pointed out when a siren went off.

Jon and Drew both swore , glanced around and then yelled, "Quickly! Run to the barracks! Move it!"

Cassie's suddenly guessed what it must be - the tunneling creatures! Damn! Why hadn't she requested a weapon?!

The three forensic team members took off in a panicked sprint for the barracks, dropping their equipment on the ground. The IOA agent, not carrying anything was fifteen feet ahead of them and pulling away quickly. Cassie stayed close to Jon who was moving at an unhurried trot.

"Look at 'em go," Cassie heard Drew say softly to Jon as he jogged next to them. "You'd swear the hounds of hell were after 'em."

A sudden burst of small arms gunfire sounded behind them, certainly in the base, and Cassie felt a sudden urge to sprint for the safety of the barracks, but reined it in to stay next to the people with the weapons.

As Cassie jogged up to the barracks, she saw the four other people inside, standing in a clump in the middle of the large building. The light inside the building showed them all to be gasping for breath and looking about wild-eyed, looking like they expected something to come bursting up through the floor. Cassie could feel her own heart racing far more than the easy jog could explain.

"What was that? I heard gunfire! Am I safe here?"

The IOA agent panted out his questions as they came in the door.

Jon waved his hand. "You are all perfectly safe here. These floors are log and concrete - nothing we've found here can dig through it, at least not quickly. There's a vibration and grinding that you can't miss if a worm starts burrowing up through. Stay in here while we check to see what's going on. Make yourselves at home here, but don't leave the building until someone comes to give you a report. We'll bring your equipment in. It's safe where it is for now."

Jon and Drew turned and walked back out, but Cassie thought she saw Jon give her a wink. Something was going on, but she didn't know what.

After they left Cassie turned to the others who were still looking around nervously, slowly recovering from their panicked run.

"Screw this," one of the men on the forensic team said, Cassie thought it was Bob. He was yelling at Agent Colezar. "There's no way I would have agreed if I had known it was like this."

The other man on the team walked over to a bed that didn't have any personal belongings around it and sat down. "No kidding. Sounded good when we found out - travel to another planet, huge pay bonus, spend a couple days doing some alien crime scene investigation. Oh yeah - and get eaten by monsters from below or trampled by rampaging dinosaurs! Somehow that part didn't make it into the briefing!"

"You'll stay and do the investigation - you knew there could be dangers before you were read into the program. They're going to send a security team with you. You'll be perfectly safe out there."

"Yeah, and that's why you're going to be staying here in the base, right?" Bob's tone was angry and scornful.

"Hey!" The woman's voice broke into the argument. "We thought we were going into a war zone when we first volunteered. This is just a different type of danger." She waved back in the direction of the Stargate, "They're out there and they aren't dying left and right. We'll be fine. We're all ex-military." She glanced at Agent Colezar and Cassie with skepticism, "At least we are. It's just like being in a war zone."

"Yeah, yeah." Tom replied with venom. "You got posted to Afghanistan and we stayed stateside. You bring that up every time - you were sitting on your butt in rear bases that never heard a hostile shot, so you can stuff your precious combat experience up your ass."

"And who just spewed their lunch …"

"This guy's briefing …"

"Shut it you fucking pogue. You've never …"

All four of them had devolved into a round shouting match and Cassie decided to step back out on the porch. As she stepped out, she nearly screamed when she nearly ran into Jon leaning against the wall next to the door.

"Jon! You - "

He held his finger up to his lips and pulled her aside.

"Shhh."

She stepped up close before whispering. "What are you playing at here? What's going on?"

"The IOA is trying to take over authority of off-world bases, and they're using this as an opportunity to get their fingers in. I'm keeping them off-balance and we'll try to hurry them back to Earth as quickly as possible. All that stuff with the alarm and gunfire was something I set up ahead of time - I want them on edge and begging to head back to Earth."

"So there really aren't any of those creatures you mentioned?"

"Oh they're real, alright, and we did just survive a major stampede of the elephents, but - "

"Eleph-Ents?" Cassie asked, noting the odd pronunciation.

Jon gave a delighted grin. "Yeah. Cross an African elephant with an ent from Lord of the Rings, triple the size and you have an Elephent!"

The idea of a new creature like that grabbed her imagination. Hanka's wildlife was similar to Earth's - seeded from Earth by goa'uld many millennia past. The chance to see something like that? "I'd love to see one! Do you think any will come by?"

"Probably not - we used to see some every couple of weeks, but the major herd around here was stampeded into us and we had to kill a lot of them."

"Darn. How about the worm things?"

"Probably won't see any of them either. They're technically a root, according to our resident biologists. They can move, though by quickly burrowing but they're pretty confined to their own individual areas. There was only one that included part of this base in its territory. After it was killed, others started spreading in, but one of the guys discovered that ultrasonics in the soil annoys them. We have a couple dozen rigs scattered around that pulse an ultrasonic tone. We haven't seen one around for a couple months. They aren't as dangerous as I made them sound - they do burrow up, but it can take five or six seconds to come up. They mostly stick to existing tunnels. Their biggest danger is their tunnel - we had a broken leg and several twisted ankles from people falling into the tunnels."

An explosion suddenly sounded in the distance, enough to send a shudder through the wood under Cassie's feet.

The yelling inside suddenly stopped.

"Our little exercise has concluded, time to head back in," Jon whispered in her ear, sending a shiver down her spine. Thoughts of some of the things she had packed in her travel bag surfaced and she hoped they would have time to spend together while they were here. She reached up, grabbed his head and pulled him down for a hard kiss.

His lips were hot against her own and she pulled her body as tightly against his as she could, pressing against his hard body for a brief second before pulling back.

"Go get 'em, tiger."

Jon's eyes were half closed, his lips still reaching for her kiss, and Cassie felt absurdly proud of herself for a moment. He shook his head and gave her a wicked grin that sent her stomach into flip-flops before taking a step around her and into the doorway. She followed along a second later.

"All right. All clear. It's safe for you all to pick up your equipment. Dawn is about two hours away. Daylight here is only about ten hours long at the moment, so you'll need to hurry. We'll have a patrol of people to go with you."

"While they're out, I need to meet with you and your head of security," Agent Colezar inserted.

Cassie couldn't see Jon's expression, but Colezar's darkened and the other three smirked.

"Really? Look, you paper-pushing pogue - you've seen what it's like here and you still want to go poking around, trying to satisfy your bureaucratic itch? We don't have enough spare bodies to babysit you. You're accompanying your team - you're officially their team lead, after all. We'll make sure nothing eats, poisons, dissolves, strangles, or stomps on you, but we're keeping you in a group. I don't have the spare manpower to escort some REMF from meeting to meeting."

He spun on his heel and marched out.

"Miss Frasier, follow me. I'll take you over to the science hall." Jon's voice was harsh and clipped, but a grin was suddenly showing on his face.

Cassie picked up her rucksack and followed Jon, trying to hide a grin as well. Agent Colezar's voice rose in objection, but Jon ignored it and so did Cassie.

They were around a corner when Jon slowed to let Cassie catch up.

"I'm sure our scientists have enough interesting stuff to keep you occupied for a year, but the biggest thing they say they need is something to sequence the stuff this planet uses for DNA. We don't have the equipment, it's too expensive to bring here, and we're at the bottom of the list for priority to get stuff scanned via typical SGC channels."

The light dawned and Cassie grinned. "So I'll take a few samples back and check them at Stanford?"

"You got it. Think you'll be able to do it?"

Cassie reached out and took his hand in the darkness as they walked.

"Well, if you ask me really nicely, I'll consider it."

Jon cleared his throat. "Well, the planet isn't nearly as dangerous as we've made it sound - it's actually quite nice. Everything here operates slowly by our mammalian standards, though at lightning speeds by Earth-plant standards. I'd … I'd like to take you out to see some of it if you're interested."

The chance to see a whole new biological system up close?! A burst of excitement rushed through her and she held in a squeal of joy. "Yes! I'd love to! You've got got a deal! You know just how to be nice to a girl!"

"Actually, that wasn't my asking nicely part. I had different ideas on asking nicely."

Cassie giggled. She couldn't help it. He sounded embarrassed there.

"If that's the case, then I look forward to you asking me nicely." She hugged his arm in excitement as they walked.

They arrived at the science hall and Jon opened the door into what appeared to be a modern lab. Cassie grinned at the incongruity - the rough log cabin exterior and the gleaming white interior. Four people were inside, wearing lab coats and working on projects. Racks and racks of sample plants were growing in little pots, each carefully labeled. One of the scientists opened a large refrigerator and Cassie caught a glimpse of shelves filled with more samples and beakers.

"Ladies and gentlemen! A moment of your time, please!" Jon's voice filled the lab.

"Jon, what was up with all the fireworks out there? They gave us quite a start - nearly spilled a potted Hook Thorn. It got me pretty good as its thanks for me catching it!"

An thin man with a grey mustache held up a hand with a row of red dots stretching across it. He was engrossed in looking through a microscope at something and didn't look up.

"My apologies, Doctor Collins. I assure you it was needed."

Something rang a bell for Cassie. Collins. Collins. She couldn't see his face, but something seemed very familiar. She might have read his papers on something? She set aside the stray thought as the other three walked up - a ruddy-faced Englishman with a short, white beard, a petite woman of oriental descent, and a short man with a massive grey beard.

Jon started introductions. "Cassie, these are doctors Brookfield, Wong, and Kittle. The man so rudely ignoring us is Dr. Collins."

Cassie shook their hands, recognizing Dr. Brookfield as an English geneticist well known for his work in population genetics, and the other two names were ringing bells as well. There had obviously been a push to bring in some top-notch geneticists, and Cassie felt self-conscious being only a student.

"Cassie? Cassandra Frasier? The one with the paper on the Prior virus?"

The man on the microscope had stood up while she was shaking hands with the others. Cassie turned to see the newcomer and her jaw dropped. "Dr. Collins? You can't be here!"

He gave out a soft laugh and shook her hand. "And yet I am."

"But, but - you're the Director of the NIH! You can't be here!"

"I am officially on vacation. I just happen to be spending it on another planet doing research on alien genetics. I'll tell you that it's a million times more fun than dealing with budgets all day. I am horribly abusing my position to be here, but I couldn't resist!"

Cassie's head was swimming with the people here. She almost felt like she needed to start asking for autographs!

'_Does Jon even realize who he has here?_'

Jon continued. "As Dr. Collins said, Miss Frasier is indeed the one who was able to do some excellent research on the Prior disease before it disappeared. I assume you've all read the full paper, not just the publically-released version?"

All their heads nodded.

"Nice work."

"Well done."

"Jolly good work there!"

Cassie could feel a blush rising. These people had all read _her_ paper and were praising it?

"Miss Frasier is the answer to your request for genetic sequencing."

Wong and Kittle looked excitedly at her.

"She's only here for a couple days, but the paperwork on sending materials to Earth for testing got approved, and she will be taking them to Earth, doing whatever stuff it is you guys are asking, and then sending us the results. It's not as good as having a machine here, I realize, but it's the best I could arrange. This is possibly a one-time thing, too. I don't know how often they'll let me pull her in for consultation."

The scientists all gathered around her eagerly and soon she was pouring over their research, looking at the months of work they had begun. An entire world with completely different biology and genetics and ... !

She couldn't believe some of the stuff they were finding here! Totally different DNA structures, evidence of rapid mutation with directed environmental influence, active error correction structures - Cassie followed each scientist through their projects absorbing everything she could but knowing there were mountains more on the edge of discovery!

She was examining the initial measurements of change between successive generations of a fungus-like plant that grew outward in giant concentric circles, but spread via an extruded slime which -

"Alright you bunch of slave drivers! It's time for food! If you guys faint again, I'm not dragging your sorry carcasses to the infirmary - you guys can die and turn into fertilizer for the plants that have you so gaga."

Cassie jerked up from the notes to see Jon standing at the door, hands on his hips.

All the other scientists groaned, but in spite of their seniority in their fields, they began closing down their projects.

Dr. Collins leaned over to her. She had found him to be an extremely friendly person, and it had helped her get over the fact that she was working with the freaking _Director_ of the NIH!

"Listen to the man. He's young enough to be my son and all that, but he's not someone to cross. Two of us passed out at our desks - not just asleep, but fainting from not eating or drinking. He implemented mandatory breaks every twelve hours."

Cassie looked at her watch and was shocked to see she had been here for over nine hours.

Dr. Wong walked up, drying her hands. "Yeah, and when we refused, he cut off our power. The tyrant." The words were said with a small smile.

Dr. Collins chuckled, saving his work. "It started before I got here, but I suspect the enforced breaks have been a real benefit - we come back with fresh minds and we talk amongst ourselves, often seeing ideas we hadn't before.

"Just don't tell Jon - we are, of course, horribly offended and upset to have a non-scientist interfering with our work." Dr. Collins smiled at Jon who was coming up.

"Our little secret," Cassie grinned back.

* * *

Jon smiled broadly at the four men walking back through the Stargate, the blue event horizon swallowing them up and sending them back to Earth. He'd had his security purposefully not tell anyone about any of the less dangerous plants - one of the forensic techs had a row of angry red marks where a Hook Thorn had been triggered to lash out, hooking its thorns in across his back and injecting a chemical that slowly killed most plants and greatly irritated human skin. The IOA agent had sat on an "Acid Pad" and the acid its leaves emitted when pressed had soaked through his pants and given him large acid burns on his buttocks.

A few off-duty security men had even gotten a bullhorn and made noises a few hundred feet away through the jungle. The team guarding the techs had generated a story of some unknown creature that seemed to feed on elephents, but had always been too fast for anyone at the base to see. They had bravely offered to stay out if the team still needed to search for more remains.

The IOA agent had demanded to go back to the base a fraction of a second before the techs started throwing their equipment together and rushing back.

It was getting dark, anyway. Couldn't hope to find more. They were sure they'd found everything. No point in wasting time on nothing. Needed to get their finds to a lab on Earth. Very important to get the samples there immediately. Very important.

They had discovered a dozen more bits and pieces of the aliens' visit, several scraps of paint, boot prints, more cloth fibers, and a few other odds and ends. Jon wasn't sure if any of it would actually be helpful, but it certainly couldn't hurt.

Regardless, good results all around. Well, except for the IOA.

"Drew," he called on his radio.

"Yeah, boss."

"Our visitors are back through the Stargate. Good work. Make sure all the men know too. Damn proud of you guys!"

"I'll make sure to pass it along."

"Thanks. Let 'em know that if they can clear the pond south of here and make sure nothing is going to surprise them, they've got their swimming hole."

"Thanks Jon. Um, there might have already been some work started that direction."

"I'd be disappointed if there hadn't been. You've got a good crew."

Jon smiled and turned back toward the science lab. Twelve hours, and the IOA agent was gone. Now he could enjoy having Cassie nearby.

He walked into the biology lab to see Cassie and Dr. Collins animatedly going over some papers and writing notes on a whiteboard.

'_By God, she's beautiful!_'

Her eyes were sparkling as she scribbled down a chemical notation of some sort and drew some lines between it and some other chemicals. She said something to the man and a light seemed to come on for him and he flipped through piles of papers until he found the right ones and read something to Cassie who then underlined some of the chemicals already up there and then wrote a new one.

'_How in the universe did I ever get so lucky?_'

He walked up slowly, hating to disturb them, but he knew Cassie had been awake for at least twenty eight hours at this point. Sam had always gotten wrapped up in her work to the point where she had lost track of time, and it looked like Cassie was much the same.

Cassie noticed him when he was almost there.

"Jon! You wouldn't believe some of the things that Dr. Collins has been finding here! The nucleobases are different, but they still utilize the same monosaccharide ... "

He smiled softly as Cassie excitedly talked about … something about DNA. The words were thirty syllables long, but they sounded beautiful coming from her lips.

Jon finally held up a hand.

"Hold it! You're talking to a dumb grunt, here. I enjoy listening, but you've been awake for nearly twenty eight hours straight, now. I'm going to insist you get some rest."

Cassie began to object, but Jon was happy to see Dr. Collins look surprised and then interrupt her. "Cassandra, I agree with our despicable dictator here. If I had known, I would have sent you packing myself."

"Thanks Doc. Maybe you aren't as bad as I keep telling people. Come on Cassie. We'll get some food into you and then I'm making sure you actually get into bed and don't just grab your laptop to keep writing notes or something. I did this with Sam and her alien doohickies for years, so I know all the tricks."

He watched her face slowly shift from a stubborn refusal to an embarrassed acceptance.

"Ok. Though I can't imagine sleeping right now, though! There's so much stuff here! A whole different system of genetics that seems to - "

"Ack!" He held up a hand. "No more science for you until you've slept."

Her eyes crinkled as she tried to hide a smile and Jon resisted the urge to sweep her into a kiss. Instead he stepped forward and gently nudged her along with a hand in the small of her back. She handed the papers in her hand to Dr. Collins and reluctantly let him guide her out toward the door.

He glanced back at Dr. Collins and saw a suspiciously knowing smile on his face.

'_Dang, am I being that obvious?_'

He scooped up her rucksack next to the door - she hadn't even had a chance to put it away. Though, he hoped she'd be sleeping in his bed, so maybe it was all for the better that she hadn't had a chance to put away her bag.

He couldn't keep a smile off his face as they walked through the near-darkness to the canteen - Cassie was still talking about the discoveries they were making. He really could listen to her talk all day long.

It wasn't until they sat down with their food that Cassie paused.

"Sorry, Jon. I didn't mean to bore you. It's just … it's exciting!"

"Not bored at all - I could listen to you talk all day long."

She puffed a string of hair out of her face, looking embarrassed and annoyed.

"Ok, enough about genetics, then. No more biology. How did your work on the IOA guy turn out?"

Jon grinned. She would get a kick out of this. He began regaling her with the mishaps the team had gone through. Every laugh she made twinkled through his chest and set off another burst of warmth in him. As he wrapped up the story, Cassie gave out a huge yawn.

"Oh, sorry. I guess I might be a bit tired."

"Not surprising at all. Let's get you tucked away in bed." A bit of nervousness went through him. "Um, I can set you up in the women's barracks or in my cabin."

Cassie's eyes shyly dropped to the table. "Your … cabin is good."

Jon reached across and grabbed her hand, squeezing it with a smile.

"Come on, I'll take you over to the women's bath house. Shower and stuff, then sleep."

Jon noticed a couple yawns carefully hidden as they walked. She was wiped out.

He sighed a little to himself.

'_She's going to collapse once she gets into bed. Nothing's going to happen tonight except sleep._'

His cabin was just that - a small one-room cabin with nothing more than a desk, a couple chairs, and a double cot. Double cots were one of the things he'd insisted upon for everyone - these were going to be their beds for the near future and if he couldn't bring along mattresses, he'd make sure they at least weren't sleeping on tiny, narrow cots.

He'd had more than a few fantasies of sharing the cot with Cassie, but it looked like that would be delayed for another night.

Jon left her to get a shower and went to his cabin to finish up a few items that probably ought to be done before he called his shift done. Only a few minutes later he heard a soft rap on his door and Cassie came in looking freshly cleaned and wearing a t-shirt with a pair of shorts, but even more tired than when he'd left her.

"C'mere," he reached out to her and she all but collapsed on his lap. He stroked her shirt, still damp from the shower and nuzzled her damp hair. "Let's get you in bed while you can still walk."

He tucked her into his bed and stripped himself before climbing in. Cassie rolled into him, kissing the side of his neck as she curled up on him.

"Come on, let's get you to sleep here girl. You're about to pass out."

"I'm sorry, Jon. I really do want to - "

"Shhh," Jon placed a finger on her lips. She kissed it and sucked it into her mouth briefly. Jon felt his cock jump, and he kissed her forehead. "We'll have more chances. For now, just sleep."

She gave a soft moan which he couldn't tell if it was protest or agreement, but she nestled her head into his shoulder and was still. Almost instantly her breathing evened out and he smiled as he let himself drift off to sleep, holding his love in his arms.

* * *

Jon woke slowly, finding that they had shifted during the night so that he was spooning against her back. His morning erection was nestled against Cassie's ass and Jon softly shifted his hips, rubbing against her body. Maybe she was on the verge of waking up too? No. Probably not. Jon decided to let her sleep undisturbed. It had been seven hours, and his body was waking him up, ready for a new day.

His cabin, just like all the sleeping buildings, had thick drapes to block the light which was rarely in sync with their sleep patterns. His clock said it was 0530 Earth time, and he worked his way out of the cot without waking Cassie. He quickly got dressed and left a note for her when she woke. It was his morning to run PT for the base, and he made it to the field with a few minutes to spare. The "morning" was almost noontime by the position of the sun, but the base was quiet except for the guards and the other people who were making their way to the field for PT.

An hour later he wrapped up their routine and grabbed a shower. He quietly opened his door to see Cassie lacing up her shoes.

"Good morning!"

She was definitely still a bit bleary, but he thought she looked absolutely adorable. Maybe it was because he knew she was just getting up out of his bed.

"Morning, at least," she replied.

"Some breakfast might help that a little. After that, I think we need to take a walkabout."

"Tour the compound?"

"I was thinking more like heading out into the jungle. See some of the native plant life close up."

"Really?!" Cassie's voice instantly lost its sleepy morning tone. "See it … well, is it safe?"

"Yup. Perfectly safe. As far as we can tell the elephents and worms are the most mobile things around, and they're pretty slow by Earth standards. Anything else that moves might beat a fast sloth, but that's about it. We'll be fine."

"Do you think we can find an elephent? Dr. Barnard had some videos of one, and it looks amazing!"

"We'll try, but no guarantees."

An hour later, Jon pushed into the jungle proper from the cleared area around the base, Cassie close behind. He carried a pack, pistol and machete, but it wasn't going to be a long trip - only a mile or so out. He knew where a grove of brightly flowered plants was and couldn't wait to see her face when she saw them.

The jungle wasn't particularly thick compared to Earth jungles - Jon remembered one of the biologists talking about the greater energy needs of the mobile plants meaning they needed more space, or something like that. Regardless, it was relatively easy to navigate, though the moving plants meant there were very few stable landmarks, and people needed to rely strictly on the base's homing beacon to find their way back.

Jon had pointed out a few plants that were dangerous like the Hook Thorn and Acid Pad, and Cassie was being cautious as she moved through. Jon approved. Daniel would have had his fingers burned, his arms scratched, and his face covered with flung nettles from a 'Porky' by now.

Quite a few of the plants had evolved systems similar to venus fly traps that would quickly latch onto and begin consuming other plants, and of course other plants had evolved defenses or traps to counter such behavior. Jon knew most of the biggest dangers, but he was still careful.

It took them a half hour to reach the flower grotto and Jon grinned to see Cassie's face light up.

"It's beautiful," she whispered.

A huge mass of shiny yellow leaves glistened and sparkled in the sunlight looking like everything had been coated in gold. The grotto was fifty feet across and surrounded by a bare area ten feet wide surrounded by a wider ring of the planet's mossy grass-analog.

Cassie went to walk up to the golden plants but Jon held her back. "You'll need to stay back. This one has vines that pull you in."

Cassie looked around for vines and Jon pointed to the bare area.

"Here, watch." He picked up a dead segment of vine about six feet long off the ground and pushed it out onto what appeared to be bare dirt. Several vines, perfectly shaded to match the dirt suddenly curled around the vine and began drawing it in toward the mass of golden leaves.

Cassie gasped.

"Oh, it gets better," Jon smiled.

He pulled on the vine, tugging enough to stretch the small vines back, and smiled as the plant responded. A larger vine pushed out from the main body of the plant and worked its way across until it touched the vine Jon held. It wrapped around it and began retracting.

"Help me pull!"

Jon dug his feet into the ground and pulled as Cassie grabbed on behind him and helped pull.

Two more large vines came snaking out and grabbed on as well, and Jon felt himself finally being tugged inexorably in.

"Okay, let go," he grunted and they stepped back as the plant's vines pulled in the segment of vine. In ten seconds the dead vine disappeared behind the golden leaves and the tiny vines began to snake back out to lay down on the dirt, once again all but disappearing.

"Wow." Cassie's voice was a little labored from the recent exertion of pulling. "That's amazing!"

Jon grinned. This felt like his own planet in a lot of ways and he loved showing it to her.

"I think the going theory is that the shiny leaves trick other plants into thinking it's sunlight and has them move toward it."

Cassie looked around and saw a small bush that was moving toward the golden plant, inching along on a half dozen vines which moved like a caterpillar. "Jon! Jon! Look!"

It took the bush a couple minutes to cover the last few yards, but it eventually reached the bare area and the small vines again wrapped around it, pulling it in. The little plant didn't seem to notice anything out of the ordinary and within seconds disappeared into the mass of golden leaves.

"That was pretty amazing," Cassie repeated.

Jon grinned. For the last hour of hiking that had been her most common word as every new plant was seen. It was just like Sam with alien doohickeys.

"I brought a picnic with us. It's not quite lunch time, but this is a nice place."

"Sounds great," Cassie replied and came over to kiss him. He held her tight, enjoying the feel of her body pressed up against his own for a moment before reluctantly letting go..

Jon started pulling the containers of food from his pack as Cassie started following another small bush inching along.

"Can I touch these?"

He glanced over to double check. The plant was another of the caterpillar-moving bushes.

"Sure, a few people keep some of them around the base - they eat up bread crumbs and stuff. The guys like to feed them. Don't let its main body attach itself to you, though - it has a mild acid it uses to dissolve the stuff it tries to eat and it'll give you a heck of a rash."

Cassie gently picked it up and giggled as the plant began crawling along her arm.

Jon finished pulling out the plastic containers with their food and reached in to pull out the blanket he had brought but paused. It took him a moment to realize why he paused - it dawned on him that he was beginning to feel uncomfortable. Something seemed off.

He paused for a moment, closing his eyes to focus on anything he could hear. The alien jungle was completely absent of insect or animal noises, but a constant brushing and rustling sound filled the air from the thousands of plants moving. He put his hand on the ground, feeling for tremors that might signal the nearness of a worm, but he couldn't feel anything.

The air was … smelling like something. A vaguely plastic-like scent was in the air, a faint burnt plastic smell.

Jon slid his hand to his sidearm and undid the snap on the holster. Wide-ranging scouting trips hadn't found any sign of the aliens, and it was assumed they had either left the system or were staying far away. A worry began to grow. They were only a mile from the camp, but ….

He checked the leaves around him, looking for signs of a breeze. This far into the jungle, there was little air movement, but there was some. A few leaves trembled in a soft breath of air and Jon slowly turned his body to face into the wind, scanning with as much casualness as he could muster.

Nothing was immediately obvious, but then Jon began to make out an area where the movement of the jungle seemed slightly different. An area that seemed completely normal but … Jon swore under his breath. The area looked normal, but there was a, a - 'border' was the closed he could come to describing it - a border around the area where the movement seemed to be slightly 'off'.

Something invisible or cloaked was there. Distance was hard to estimate, but it probably wasn't more than fifty feet away. There were a few trees between them that helped to gauge the distance. He turned a little to the side, removing his focus from the area.

"Cassie, could you help me out here?"

"Sure. I think I'm going to take this little guy back to camp. I like him!"

She walked over with the caterpillar bush on her arm.

"Don't look up," Jon whispered. "The gold bush is at twelve o'clock. Something is at ten o'clock. Something cloaked invisible. The base is roughly toward the three o'clock direction. When I give the word, we're going to start walking back toward the base."

Cassie had stiffened at Jon's first words and nodded.

Jon caught another whiff of the scorched plastic smell, this one a bit stronger.

'_Crap. It's mobile while cloaked._'

"Oh," he said aloud. "There's a hibiscus plant I wanted to show you before lunch. Let's go check it out."

Jon kept his voice casual as he straightened, giving his hand to Cassie as she got up.

"Really? I'd love to see it."

Her voice was mostly normal, but her grip on his hand was tight.

Jon put her in front of him as they walked back toward the jungle. They reached the jungle and Jon let out a small sigh of relief - his back had been itching with the imagined feel of weapons aimed at him.

They were barely ten feet into the jungle when Jon heard something scraping past leaves almost immediately behind him.

"Run!"

He dropped and rolled to his left even as Cassie took off running straight ahead. As he rolled, pulled out his pistol, twisting to roll up facing behind where he had been. The distortion was much clearer now that it was closer, though the contents inside the cloaked area was still invisible.

_Bang! Bang!_

Jon squeezed off two shots as he rolled into a crouch. A blue beam of light flickered out and hit the ground next to him with a sharp scent of ozone even as the cloaking wavered and flickered. Jon barely caught a glimpse of a floating platform with a vaguely humanoid form crouched on top of it.

Jon dove toward the thing, diving under it even as a second blue beam darted out to hit where he had been.

He rolled onto his back and pointed his gun upwards with arms locked and suddenly jerked them back. About two feet up from the ground his forearms and gun had suddenly disappeared.

'_Inside the cloak. That's all!_'

He locked his arms upward again and fired. He really, _really _hoped this thing wasn't bulletproof.

This time the cloak disappeared entirely and a patterned grey surface appeared with two bullet holes in it. The flying object jerked upward and to the side and Jon fired twice more into its bottom. Its motor must have been pierced, finally, and it suddenly dropped to the ground like a rock. A human form rolled off to the side.

Jon was about to shoot the man when he heard Cassie scream.

With a curse he took off running, hoping the thing's pilot wasn't getting up.

Jon plunged through a bush and its branches quickly retracted away from the violence of his passage. He saw Cassie's form lying on the ground thirty feet ahead, but instead of running toward her, he dove behind one of the tree trunks.

He hadn't seen anything, but that didn't mean anything at this time.

'_Aw hell. No time. You know about where the aliens must be. Don't give him time to move._'

Even as the thoughts flashed through his mind, Jon spun around the side of the tree trunk and began firing into the jungle. He squeezed off a series of shots about waist height, starting at a small clearing area and tracking his shots across.

On the third shot, the air flickered and Jon rolled back behind the tree as a blue beam darted out at him a second before a second blue beam flickered out from off to the side. Both beams hit the tree.

'_Two of them!_'

He shrugged off his jacket and flung it out the opposite side of the tree trunk and then rolled toward the other side. Two blue beams darted out from mid air to pierce the jacket and Jon fired into the areas that had spawned the beams.

His shots rang out, punching through the apparently empty air, but a body suddenly appeared, thumping to the ground and a blue beam shot wildly in his direction from the other alien higher up in the air. Jon adjusted his aim and got off a shot before his gun locked back, empty.

Jon dove behind a large 'bush' that was wildly waving its branches, and crawled a couple yards further to get behind another large trunk. He reached into his rear pocket for his spare magazine and reloaded, racking a shot. The rest of his ammo was in his pack, so he couldn't just start filling the air with shots.

He glanced around, trying to spot any of the subtle border discontinuities of their cloaks.

Nothing.

The jungle had gone quiet - the plants pausing in their activity as they sensed something unusual happening. He looked around again, trying to spot any clues, but the jungle appeared empty. He knew it was anything but.

Invisible somethings were flying around. They might even be right over him and he'd never know it.

He glanced upward at the thought.

Nothing.

His heart pounded and his nerves screamed at him to move - the idea that something invisible might be about to pounce on him was pushing at his nerves, but Jon pushed down the reaction. He glanced around the tree trunk just enough to see Cassie's body and was relieved to see a soft rising and falling of her chest after watching for a moment.

'_Thank God._'

Now all he had to do was kill an invisible, silent, flying alien that had a ray gun.

'_No problem. Three impossible things before lunch, every day. Right? Right._'

If he were the enemy what would he be doing? Trying to sneak around for a clear shot. But, a dozen feet off the jungle floor the branches began to become more dense, limiting movement. At least silent movement. Maybe if it were slow enough movement ...

He carefully peered around the edges of the tree trunk, looking for any sign of movement in the branches, vines, and hanging moss. Any sign that something was floating through them.

A moment later he saw his clue - a branch was slowly curling around something.

'_Gotcha._'

With a slow breath, Jon brought the gun to his chest.

'_Go!_'

Jon sprang out and began running sideways, firing into the apparently blank air. The cloak began rippling as his bullets began passing through the area and Jon adjust his aim even as blue beam began to shoot out, barely missing him. Jon caught a glimpse of a figure lying down, shooting a weapon, and aimed more carefully.

The blue beam hit his foot as his finger pulled the trigger. The figure barely visible through the flickering cloaking field jerked back and fell, suddenly appearing a dozen feet up in the air to plummet down to the ground with a boneless thump. Jon felt searing pain engulf his leg and spike out through his body, paralyzing him for a moment with the pain and then leaving him strengthless to collapse in a heap.

His lower body, especially the leg that had been shot, felt like every muscle was being pierced by thousands of needles. He tried to pull his arms into himself up but they barely twitched. His pistol had slipped from his fingers and it was an almost Herculean task just to reach out to grasp it.

His arms and chest tingled like they had all somehow gone to sleep and were just as hard to control.

Suddenly the smell of scorched plastic filled his nose and dread filled him. A second later his vision suddenly flickered and the world became darker. A narrow grey sled appeared before him with a person lying down on it and the rest of the world suddenly looked like it was being viewed through a feint veil of smoke.

The man on the sled looked at him coldly, his eyes almost emotionless except for a flicker of anger deep inside. He pointed a weapon at Jon that looked vaguely like a 'zat.

Jon knew it was hopeless, but he tried to get his muscles to obey. His arm twitched just a little.

Blue light covered Jon's vision.

* * *

**A/N: Yeah. You can all scream. You know it's like music to my soul.**


	41. Frying Pan to Fire

**I'm sorry! I'm sorry! *sob* I didn't mean it! I'll be good! I promise I will!**

***sniff* Don't leave me! I didn't mean it - I still want your reviews! Really I do! *sob***

**I thought I could be strong. I said to myself, "Bah! I am a strong and independent writer! I write for my own pleasure - the opinions of others matters naught to me! My art is pure. My self-confidence unassailable!"**

**Pfft. A chapter without reviews revealed to me what a needy and pathetic person I actually am. :-D**

* * *

Consciousness slowly sneaked up on Jon.

Then it clubbed him over the head.

Vague fuzziness that the world existed suddenly exploded into an all-consuming burst of pain radiating from his head and spiking back and forth between his temples. For a moment his entire world was nothing but pain - no sight, no hearing, no feeling, no sense of self, just an infinite pain. The pain suddenly stopped.

"He's awake now. Get him prepped."

Jon felt himself rolled over onto his back and then lifted onto a chair, his arms strapped down to its arms. The world seemed to swim around him, vague forms moved around, some of them seemed to be walking but some of them were still, but somehow managed to swim back and forth in his vision.

He closed his eyes as nausea washed over him, trying to hold it in.

'_Why bother?_'

He launched the contents of his stomach to his right at one of the moving forms doing something to his arm.

Angry words rang out and something connected with the side of his face.

'_Oh, that's better. I can deal with getting beat up._'

The strike to his head cleared his thinking a little and he was able to make out his surroundings more clearly.

Directly across from him, ten feet away, Cassie was wide-eyed staring at him strapped to a chair. A gag filled her mouth and her eyes were locked on his own, worry and fear evident in her eyes. A glance downward showed he was strapped to the same sort of chair as she was.

A man in a plain, grey uniform came into his line of vision, a wet stain with food chunks still covering the front of the shirt.

He slapped Jon. "You do something like that again, and I'll - " he held up a rod that reminded Jon of a cattle prod, " - fry your brain."

He jabbed it into Jon's stomach and the lightning again visited its torture on Jon, this time centered in his gut - raging currents of white-hot pain lanced through his stomach for what seemed to be eternity, but was actually only a second, until the man pulled it away, dropping the rod into his lap, the little prongs almost touching the crotch of his pants, stained wet with his own piss.

Jon sagged in his chair, gasping for breath. It took long minutes to get his body back under control, but he finally managed to pull his head up and look about him with more care.

They were in some sort of large tent, it seemed, with three people aside from himself and Cassie moving about. All three wore simple grey uniforms. Two bags were stacked against a wall, and Jon suspected they held bodies.

'_Good, I got two of them, anyway._'

Next to Jon's chair a bed held another person, partially covered with a sheet and with an odd sort of substance covering his chest; Jon guessed it was the first guy he had shot but he wasn't sure.

Other than that, the tent held a variety of small crates, cots, and several small tables and chairs with equipment Jon couldn't identify, though screens and something that looked like a pair of headphones suggested some of it might be monitoring equipment.

One of the men turned from the table with a syringe in hand, heading toward Cassie.

'_Get their attention off her._'

"Some hot shit you guys turned out to be. Invisible, flying, element of surprise, outnumbering us, more weapons - and I still managed to take down two of your guys and almost managed to nail this loser here," he jerked his head to the unconscious man in the bed next to him.

The man with the syringe paused and came over to Jon instead. "Laugh while you can, slave. You're going to tell us everything we want." He waved the syringe in front of Jon's face.

Jon lunged his head forward and a jab of pain hit his forehead as the needle jabbed him, but the syringe was sent flying onto the ground.

Jon saw the retaliatory strike coming and turned his head into the punch, taking the punch almost on top of his head. A flash of light went off behind Jon's eyes, but the man pulled back cursing and cradling his hand. Jon saw him grab up the prod and gritted his teeth.

'_This is gonna hur -_'

The prod jabbed into the side of his face and Jon's world flashed with pain, everything ceased to exist again except for the white hot pain exploding in his head. He couldn't tell how long it lasted this time, but when it stopped he sagged forward, fighting for for consciousness. Slowly the ringing in his ears began to fade and he could make out their voices.

"... too emotional! We can't damage him until we've extracted everything. Ignore him for now and prepare the female. We have to begin the alterations immediately if we're to insert ourselves in their places."

The man who had punched him was taking the reprimand with ill-concealed anger, but nodded and began refilling another syringe. Jon noticed he was trying to avoid using the hand he had used to punch Jon.

'_Amateurs. Not used to anyone resisting, anyway. All right, Jon, so what's your next brilliant plan? Looks like we're getting an up-front-and-personal demonstration of how they make their duplicates._'

"So, you guys do realize we've beaten the goa'uld _and_ actual god-like beings. You guys aren't gonna be anything more than a speed bump."

His voice was slurring, but the two men at the table glanced at each other. Unfortunately, he didn't get any further response. Cassie had her eyes closed and her brow furrowed. He hoped she wasn't in too much pain from whatever they had done to her before he had woken.

He glanced around, looking for anything he could find. His chair was a simple thing made of some sort of plastic. He wiggled a little and the chair flexed, but not enough it was likely to break easily enough. However, it wasn't latched down, and even though his feet seemed to be tied to it, he would still be able to do a bit of rolling. He spotted his knife and gun stacked on a bench near the tent's entrance - too far away to reach quickly, especially bound in a chair. Their radios, along with his rucksack, were on a table and had been taken apart and searched.

'_Crap. I really gotta learn some electronics skills - Sam's not around to do that stuff any more._'

As he wiggled, he noticed his right arm had more play than his left and he looked at it more closely. The binding around his wrist was a plastic-like strip that reminded Jon of a zip-tie but seemed to just stick together somehow instead of going through a loop or catch. He realized its attachment was less precise than its partner holding his left hand and wondered if his puking earlier might have interrupted this arm's binding.

He pried his arm up, trying to stretch the material and then relaxed, pulling back on his wrist. A surreptitious glance showed two men working at a lab table and the third, the one with the hopefully-broken hand, finishing drawing the fluid into a fresh syringe.

"Hey buddy, wanna go another round? I think I won that last one. Your friends would probably get a kick out of watching you get your ass handed to you by a guy tied up in a chair."

The man's face flushed and he took a step towards Jon, but caught himself and continued toward Cassie.

Jon laughed, putting as much scorn as he could into it. "Yeah, you wouldn't want to be embarrassed any more than you already have been."

The man's jaw worked as he prepared to insert the needle into Cassie's neck. She still had her eyes closed and her brow furrowed, apparently ignoring the man next to her. Jon opened his mouth to try again but a small bump against the chair of his leg made him look down. The prod twisted, trembled, and briefly floated upward before falling back down to the ground to lie still.

'_So _that's _what she was doing. Good thought! Maybe something easier, though._'

The man finished injecting the syringe's contents and then stepped over to Jon.

"She's going to give us every last bit of knowledge in her head and then we're going to kill her. Then we're going to do the same to you. Laugh while you can, scum."

Jon nearly spit into his face but decided to save that for a more opportune time.

The man turned and stalked back over to the others and Jon returned to working his right hand out from the loose tie. Cassie's eyes were rolling wide in their sockets as she looked around, obviously disoriented. Jon began to worry and worked harder at his binding - blood already welling where he tugged and pulled against the binding.

'_What's that stuff doing to her?_'

Cassie began to jerk her head back and forth, moaning into the gag and one of the men glanced back over to her, mild puzzlement showing on his face before dismissing it and turning back to the desk.

Jon suddenly noticed several stones float up from the ground and hover before starting to shake back and forth. He gave up trying to a subtle escape - things were about to happen in a big way if Cassie's telekinesis started to let loose. The rogue goa'uld, Nirrti, had worked on Cassie's race trying to create a perfect host and believed she had succeeded with Cassie. Telekinesis was something she had demonstrated briefly, but Nirrti had been forced to save Cassie's life and as far as Jon knew, she hadn't shown any signs of the ability since then. Injecting something that messed with her mind might have triggered something and Jon wanted to be ready.

He gritted his teeth against the pain he was going to experience and tugged backwards with all his strength. People's minds stopped them from hurting themselves, but he'd had plenty of experience with pain, and he pulled through the it.

His hand seemed to be dipped in fire, but he pulled with different angles and suddenly his hand popped free. Blood was running off his hand in a steady stream and a thick slice of skin flopped off the back of his hand, ripped off by the binding.

Jon held in a groan and shook for a second with the combination of pain and relief. He took several shuddering breaths and opened his eyes.

'Oh _shit!_'

Everything smaller than a backpack seemed to be floating in the air in front of Cassie, a cloud of small rocks, clumps of dirt, and tiny sticks pulled up from the dirt floor half-obscured Cassie from his point of view. The pain rod was floating about eye level next to Jon's head, slowly rotating. Small pieces of equipment, the sheet over the man in the bed next to Jon, and dozens of small containers Jon guessed to be food slowly spun, jiggled, and vibrated in mid-air as well. Even his own clothes seemed to be gently twisting and tugging at his body.

He glanced over to the men at the desk and marveled that they hadn't noticed anything, and then realized that everything floating was within Cassie's view - the three men and their desk was behind and off to the side.

Jon reached over and carefully grabbed the pain rod with his free hand. It continued trying to twist and writhe in his grip, and Jon moaned in pain as he gripped it tightly with his wounded hand, pulling it down from the air to the side of his chair.

Cassie had stopped moaning, instead sitting stiffly in place, every muscle taut. The only motion was a faint vibration of her head that seemed to slowly be increasing. Jon noticed the motion of the floating objects was also increasing and his gut began screaming at him to get out of there. Some of the debris from the floor was starting to agitate more severely and a soft hiss of thousands of tiny stones tapping and sliding past each other began to fill the tent.

The noise finally broke the three men's concentration and they turned as one. Their expressions of disbelieving shock would have struck Jon funny if it hadn't been so serious. A second passed as they tried to process the impossible sight before them.

Jon tensed, ready to move as best he could. Cassie was about ten feet away, the men ten feet beyond.

The man who had seemed to be giving orders jumped to grab Cassie. "Get them!"

Jon lunged forward himself, but instead of falling to the ground where he planned to roll and pull himself toward them, he instead floated ahead toward Cassie, moving with small jerks through the air toward her. He had a brief glimpse of the man's again shocked expression before he reached the cloud of debris.

The dirt and sticks pelted him as he floated through it, stinging his skin like a fierce hail storm. Squinting his eyes he saw himself nearly touching Cassie as she continued staring straight ahead, but now shaking violently. The man right behind her reached to his waist for something and Jon struck. His hand and the still-squirming pain rod shot out and met the man's forehead.

Jon almost expected the light show of a goa'uld pain stick, but there was no physical sign. The man let out a hoarse scream and jerked, breaking the connection with the rod and collapsed. The other two men were almost upon them, though.

The man's scream, however, triggered something in Cassie.

Jon felt himself suddenly fly to the side, his boot catching Cassie and knocking her backwards, still tied to her chair.

Jon felt it the moment Cassie's power let go of him as gravity reasserted its patient pull and he fell with a crash, his shoulder slamming down on top of a desk before he hit the ground. He twisted his head around toward the growing storm centered around Cassie.

The other two men were now randomly jerking and twisting in mid-air over Cassie as she lay on her back, staring upwards. Other large objects had joined them, shooting back and forth, spinning, twisting and vibrating in the air. The tent around them was billowing and twisting, straining at its moorings to the ground. One of the large cases that joined the maelstrom impacted one of the flailing men's head with a sickening crunch and the wound's blood began to color the clouds of objects as the droplets were whipped away into the chaos.

Jon struggled to twist himself around to work his way over to where he remembered seeing his knife, and realized the chair had half-broken the legs on the left side. He jerked with his leg, yanking at the weakened chair leg until the binding slipped off the chair, freeing his left leg.

With an arm and leg free he started to straighten but then thought better of it, instead crawling forward staying low to the ground to stay out of Cassie's view. A quick glimpse of the two mangled and ripped bodies being flung to and fro above Cassie gave him a gruesome guarantee of what would happen to him if he again got caught in the storm of Cassie's mind.

He continued crawling forward, getting pelted with small pieces of equipment, the tent now filled with a constant crash and roar of thousands of objects rushing through the air and crashing into each other. The man Jon had jabbed with the pain rod behind Cassie was beginning to stir and Jon risked stretching out his mangled hand to touch the top of the man's head with the rod. The man briefly spasmed before collapsing again. Jon kept it there for several seconds this time before continuing his crawling progress.

As he moved, he noticed the debris was thinning as he got further from Cassie, and by the time he reached the table near the entrance of the tent where his equipment was, there were only a few items shooting back and forth near the ceiling.

The bindings were tougher than he expected, but they eventually gave way to his knife's blade and Jon shook off the broken chair.

He looked back toward the center of the tent where the storm of objects still raged. The tent walls and ceiling were still being pulled and yanked, but whatever was holding it to the ground seemed to withstand the tugging, though numerous rips and holes had been made by the spastically flying wreckage. The two bodies were still flying about, smashing into each other and the rest of the objects in the air - the blood from hundreds of wounds had been smeared across the cloud of debris, giving it a macabre look.

The collection of bits that made up the cloud filled a vaguely cone-shaped area centered above Cassie's body. Occasionally pieces would go flying out from the main body; a food container zipped by Jon's head, making him duck.

'_It's definitely sight-based. Things in her zone of vision are affected. Maybe if I can get her eyes closed or covered._'

He refused to think beyond the immediate - the possibilities of what damage might be done to Cassie writhed around the edges of his thoughts, but he kept them at bay. First things first. Stop the storm.

Crouching low, he pulled off his shirt and began crawling toward where Cassie lay. He pushed aside the man's body, and wished for a moment he had brought the pain rod with him just to zap the guy again, but the man seemed to be thoroughly unconscious.

Preparing his shirt between his hands he slammed it down across Cassie's face. Almost instantly the objects began falling - their existing motion propelling them outward in a bizarre explosion. Crashes and thumps filled the tent as boxes and bodies were flung about to finally rest on the ground.

The shirt in Jon's hand yanked and squirmed in his hand, jerking his hands back and forth, in spite of everything he could do to keep it still.

"Cassie! Listen to me! I'm here. It's all right now. You're safe. You're safe. I've got you."

Jon repeated the words again and again, pressing kisses against her head as he pulled himself up to better hold down the blindfold. Slowly the tugging of his shirt lessened and he shifted the shirt, wrapping it around her head and tying it off.

"That was great work Cassie. You saved our butts. You're safe now. No one can hurt you. I've got you. I'm right here. I'm getting you loose. You're safe. I love you. We're gonna get out of here. I'll take you back to base and get you all better. I'm gonna take care of you."

He carefully cut at her bonds, keeping up a soft patter he hoped was keeping her calm. As he cut the bonds, she didn't react, her body still tense and holding its position. He carefully pulled her out of the chair and into his lap, stroking her hair and arms, continuing to murmur in her ear. Slowly her body relaxed, though whether it was a good sign or just her body's muscles giving out from their continual tension, he didn't know.

The emergency over, or at least the most immediate part of it, the worries that had nibbled at the edges of Jon's mind flooded back over him. An unknown, mind-altering chemical interacting with Cassie's decidedly non-typical brain structure and abilities? Vegetable. Insanity. Massive damage. Memory loss. The possibilities ran through his mind in an unending loop as he slowly rocked Cassie's body.

The faint light coming in through the holes in the tent had darkened as night quickly fell. He'd need to get her back to camp as soon as possible, but he didn't know where they were, and traveling through an ever-shifting jungle in the dark without guidance was out of the question.

Finally, Cassie seemed to relax more fully and Jon carefully shifted her to lay on the ground. There were some things he needed to take care of.

He'd watched the two surviving attackers for signs of motion, but neither the man he had zapped into unconsciousness on the ground nor the man on the bed seemed to be moving, but now that darkness had fallen, the tent was too dark to easily see and he didn't want to rely on them staying unconscious.

He pulled out a light from his rucksack along with spool of paracord and quickly tied up both people. A search of the tent provided several lights which still worked, and the light combined with some food from his pack had him feeling much better.

He began fiddling with some of the alien tech, hoping to find a way to contact his base when he heard something outside the tent.

Drawing his gun he also scooped up one of the alien blue beam weapons before cautiously moving to the front of the tent and peering outside.

"Oh shit."

* * *

**A/N: What? You thought my neediness would change me? That my desperation for comments might bring about kindness and consideration? You thought I might pander to readers, giving satisfying conclusions at chapter ends?! Ha! Suck it, y'all! Eat flaming cliffhanger!**

**BTW, Ayla (guest) you are my new favorite for giving a review for last chapter and preserving my sanity. God bless you, whoever you are. :-D**


	42. Crash! Smash! Doom!

**What? You think I'm gonna apologize after leaving you all for a week and a half without an update right after a little cliffhanger?**

**Well, you're right.**

**I'm so, so sorry! Please forgive me!  
**

**I don't know which story will get me your forgiveness better, so I'll give you three and you can pick the one that will get me the most sympathy:**

**1) Thor beamed me up and told me that his race was doomed unless I wrote a story about them. He then kept giving 'helpful suggestions' and it took forever to finish.**

**2) Work went absolutely wonko nutso crazy busy and I did little more than collapse when I finally got home. It finally slowed down enough that I have energy to write again.**

**3) I'm actually a sadistic bastard who just wants to make you all suffer waiting for the story to continue.**

**Errr, wait, that last one wouldn't get me much forgiveness, would it? Meh. Oh well. It might be the true one. ;-)**

**Without further ado - let's keep going!**

* * *

A rounded boxy ship the size of a railroad car was settling down through the jungle, snapping and scraping through trees. The ship was dark against the star-speckled sky, but Jon thought it was a similar but smaller design to the ship he had seen when the Lucian Alliance had tried to kidnap him and his team.

He glanced at Cassie, lying unconscious on the floor and around the tent. There was no way to escape, especially with Cassie in the shape she was. So attack. He grabbed the alien ray gun and his pistol, and just in case, tucked his knife back into his boot.

Jon felt a soft thump through the ground as the ship set down.

He ran to the front of the tent and paused, peeking out. The ship was only thirty feet away in a clearing just barely big enough for the ship to land. A door opened in the end, slowly sliding out and across to reveal two men in similarly styled clothes. Neither of them appeared to be particularly alert for danger and they casually strode across toward the tent.

Jon stepped back to the side of the opening and crouched behind one of the grey sled-like machines the aliens had flown on before. He decided he would try using the alien weapon instead of his own, louder weapon. He mentally cursed himself for not trying the weapon out before, and prepared to drop the weapon and grab his own, better-known pistol if it didn't work.

The first man stepped through and stopped in surprise. The second man pushed in and stopped as well before they both started forward with surprised exclamations at the havok in the tent.

Jon let them take several steps before firing.

The blue beam lanced out and caught the first man in the middle of the back, dropping him instantly. The other man started, looking down at his fallen companion before he spun to face Jon just in time to catch a second beam.

Jon eyed the weapon appreciatively. Almost as good as a zat. Not as fast as a firing rate, though - he had pressed the firing stud a half-dozen times before the second beam had fired. Still, it had been fast enough to catch these two. He suspected they weren't combat troops though; they weren't out of shape, but they had a softness and a shocked reaction to violence that suggested to Jon they weren't used to violence or strenuous activity. He still preferred a zat if he had to take prisoners.

Jon carefully went to the tent flaps and peered out, hopeful that alarms hadn't been raised on the ship. There wasn't any activity to suggest they had been alerted, so Jon straightened and took a calming breath before stepping out of the tent and walking toward the brightly lit interior of the ship. He tried to cut a balance between appearing confident and remaining silent, hoping that any observers would assume he was one of the men who had captured him and Cassie.

As he reached the door, he could see the interior was chrome and clean, nearly sterile. Two people were still in the ship - one working at a bank of screens and another working on something that looked like a chrome coffin. Jon's footsteps quieted as it was apparent no one was looking out for danger, and two not-quite-quick shots left them as unconscious as their companions.

"All right!" Jon couldn't help the feeling of cheer rushing through him for the first time since he had realized they were being watched back in the jungle. "Now we're cookin'! Alien ship and if we're really, really lucky I might even get a big honkin' space gun!"

Something about the interior of the ship seemed familiar to Jon. It wasn't goa'uld in design. It had a sparse and clean nature that seemed a little Asgard-like, but it certainly wasn't Asgard. Nothing very imaginative, Jon decided. There was a spare functionality without regard to visual appeal - almost as if it were designed by a computer or an accountant only looking at getting the best use of square inches …

'_Accountants. Accountants. Why does that sound familiar?_' Something was tickling the back of Jon's mind again.

He walked over and examined the two unconscious men. These two were certainly not combat troops - the others Jon had been dealing with had the presence of active troops, but these two were softer and … bland-looking even considering that they were unconscious. No personali-

"Aschen!"

Their identity suddenly hit him - Aschen! Jon booted one of the unconscious men in the ribs. "Genociding assholes. Why couldn't you guys have let the black hole swallow you up?"

It was before Loki had interfered in his life, but they had run across the Aschen while exploring a world. They had rubbed him wrong from the beginning, and when they had found that their home world's Stargate address was the same as one that had arrived on a little piece of paper warning them to never go there, his suspicions had been confirmed. They had wiped out at least one planet, and probably several, by sneaking in nasty genetic tweaks that had reduced the planet's reproduction rate to a small fraction of necessary - no muss, no fuss, just a slow death of a people. They had barely managed to stop the Aschen from doing the same to Earth.

However, they had shared a list of gate addresses with the Aschen, ostensibly as a sign of good will, but the list had been comprised of all the most dangerous addresses they had found - starting with one leading to a black hole.

"Guess it was too much to hope for that you guys wiped yourself out. Bummer."

Jon frowned for a moment, trying to work out some of the ramifications of this discovery, but then shook his head - he had other, more pressing things to do first.

A quick search of the ship found several lockers of supplies including a thick package of the bonds that had been used on them. A bit of experimenting solved how to use the ties, and the two men in the ship were quickly hogtied with their hands and feet bound and then tied together behind their backs.

Back in the tent, no one seemed to have moved, but Jon was still cautious binding their hands, just in case. The man on the bed hadn't twitched the entire time, but Jon noticed that in the time since he had first noticed the man, the wounds seemed to be improving, almost mostly healed by now. After binding the man's hands and feet to the bed, he looked a little closer at the wounds and noted an odd slime over the wounds.

He shrugged and turned back to Cassie. He cautiously uncovered her head, relieved to see that for all intents and purposes she seemed to be just sleeping. A quick check of her pulse gave a slow and steady result and he carefully lifted her up and carried her to the ship. There was a tiny bathroom, but no bunks. The closest thing was a small room with two chairs that slid out into bed-like configurations. Jon would hate to spend too long on the ship with such a tiny set of quarters, but it would work for now. He slid Cassie into one and arranged her so she would hopefully be comfortable.

He walked back out to the main body of the ship and looked around with arms on his hips.

"What I wouldn't give for Carter to be here right now."

He poked at the panels carefully, hoping the Aschen kept their self-destruct sequence well protected from his mostly random prodding. Twenty minutes later provided him a little progress, but not enough for his comfort. He remembered seeing some of the Aschen ships when they had dealt with them before, and that had gotten him to the steering controls, or at least he thought they were the steering controls. He was also pretty sure he had figured out how to lift off - pretty sure. The thing he wanted, though, communications, was not apparent to his decidedly non-expert scan.

"Jon?"

The voice came from the small room toward the rear.

"Cassie! You're awake!"

He burst into the room and saw her standing weakly next to the extended chair.

"How are you feeling?"

"Headache. Tired. Dizzy. What happened?"

"What do you remember?"

"Um," her eyes closed in thought. "I woke up tied in the chair. You were unconscious. They, um, gagged me. You woke up, and … and … that's about it. Oh! And you were mouthing off to them. I remember that! What were you thinking?!"

Jon breathed out in relief. That sounded a lot more energetic - a good sign even if it was aimed at him.

"Oh, you know me - never was any good at keeping my mouth shut. Gotten me into more than a few bar fights too. I'm fine."

Actually, he hadn't gotten into many bar fights even the first time he'd been a kid. He'd jumped into a few that his fellow soldiers had started, but he'd only actually started one once.

"They were using that pain stick thing on you and you kept taunting them!"

"Not as bad as I made it look. I was trying to look weaker than I was. How about you - are you sure you're alright?"

She wasn't going along his excuse like Sam would have. "Oh no you don't. They zapped me with it too - I know exactly what it's like. What were you thinking?"

"What?! They zapped you? Are you sure you're ok?" The idea of Cassie being subjected to that thing turned his vision red and if she hadn't been there in front of him, he would have grabbed the prod and returned to the tent.

Cassie sighed and pushed him away. "Ok, ok. I guess we're both fine other than a bit of headache. So what's going on? Where are we?"

Jon decided to hold off breaking the news of her dramatically resurgent telekinetic powers. He decided he'd even try to keep her out of the tent - the bloody mess made of the two corpses caught in the telekinetic storm and the bloody remnants that covered the tent's inside were more than he wanted her to deal with right now.

"One of their ships came not too long after they drugged you up and I got loose. I managed to catch the crew by surprise. We've got our very own spaceship now!"

"Can we get back to base?"

Jon shrugged. "I was trying to figure out the controls when you got up. How about you start working on figuring out the ship and I'll start grabbing stuff from the tent. I'd like to load up the ship with our prisoners and equipment, and fly back to Treefort."

Cassie walked out to the main room and looked around. "Sure. Nothing looks familiar, but I'll see what I can figure out."

"Good. If you start feeling dizzy, sit down and call for me. I don't know what they drugged you with."

Cassie nodded and then hugged Jon fiercely and he hugged her back.

"Thank you Jon. I was so worried for you back there. They kept hitting and shocking you," she mumbled into his neck.

'_She was worried about me? Sheesh._'

"You had me worried too, but we're fine now."

She leaned up and kissed him and Jon had to shove down the urge to wrap her up and never let her go. She wasn't supposed to ever be in danger.

He slowly broke the kiss and leaned his forehead against hers.

"This wasn't how I pictured the day going, but we'll be back to base and safe as soon as we figure this ship out."

She nodded and turned to the ship's screens.

Jon walked back to the tent and began hauling the three unconscious men out and then the patient strapped to the bed. He stacked the three men in a corner, and found a place in the ship where it seemed the cot was designed to be latched into the ship. A variety of numbers popped up on a screen above the bed as he slotted it in. He couldn't decipher everything the screen displayed, but heartbeat seemed obvious and strong.

That made him worry a little. He didn't want to kill them with a second zap if this ray gun worked the same way as a zat, but he didn't want them waking up on the ship without him there.

"Here," he handed the Aschen ray gun to Cassie. "Keep an eye on them while you're working and if they wake up, zap 'em again. I'm going to grab a bunch of their equipment. Any progress?"

"Oh yeah, I figured out where to find their help system. I think I've got the major controls figured out - flight, stealth, shields."

"Oh, good idea. A help system." He kicked himself for not thinking of that. Made sense that there would be some manuals or something.

"I haven't found any warp drives or anything, though. I think this might be a short-range ship."

Jon frowned. "Which means they'll probably be coming to visit eventually, if nothing else, just to pick this up with a ship capable of interstellar travel."

It was Cassie's turn to frown.

"Actually, I think this thing normally goes through the Stargates. There's a whole system dedicated to lining up and fitting through a Stargate. It's capable of space travel, but mostly these seem to be dedicated to planetary work. So … how did it get here?"

"It was either here before we arrived, or it was dropped off by another ship. I'd guess it was dropped off. This is a really small crew to be hanging around for months on end. Unless they have a base hidden away somewhere, I think a pick-up ship must be stopping by at some point."

"Ok. All the more reason to get back to base as fast as possible, I guess."

"Yup. Any chance we can work out the communications system? Try to contact base somehow?"

Cassie turned to the screens, "I think I saw something like that around here somewhere. Um …"

"Work on that, I still want to load more from the tent." Jon especially wanted to pick up any fancy equipment and computers just in case someone came back while they were gone.

Thirty minutes later Jon had wrapped up the two corpses in the tent and carted out most of the stuff that looked interesting to him. He had figured out how to control the floating sleds and had used them to cart a couple of the large machines into the spaceship.

"All right. I think we're ready to head out," he said closing the door. The ship was pretty well crowded with the stuff, but Jon suspected that everything could have fit into the ship with more careful packing.

"Great, I've got the communications pretty well sorted out. I'll need to manually set the frequencies for radio, but we can still talk. No satellites to carry our signal over the curvature of the world, though, so we'll need to find the base on our own. We will be able to let them know we're coming, though, once we find them - keep them from shooting at us."

"You're amazing, Cass. We do have some air defenses - not enough to take down a major goa'uld attack, but enough to take out smaller ships. Probably this one would go down. We'll definitely need the radio if we're to fly home. How about those flight controls? I think I had partially figured them out, but 'partially' doesn't make me feel very good."

"Here, this is their manual for that system. I'll start setting up the system to talk with our radio systems. It's not very easy since it wasn't built with any capability to talk with anything outside its own comm systems. The goa'uld ships are much, much better."

"The Aschen are pretty insular," Jon replied. "They aren't, or at least weren't interested in dealing with outsiders."

"The Aschen?"

"Yeah. Nasty bunch of people who have essentially genocided at least a couple planets, taking them down to easily manageable population levels with some nasty biological tricks and then using them for slave labor to grow food."

"That explains their genetic abilities for their spies. I think that machine over there," she gestured to the chrome coffin, "is what does the work of turning one of them into one of us."

"Not any longer, they won't be doing it. Now that we know who they are, Jack will send some ships with big honkin' space guns to warn them off."

Jon activated the lift and the ship rose back up into the air with a few gentle sways back and forth as he worked the control surface flight controls. He eased it up several hundred feet, looking out the screens that gave views all around. Nothing appeared familiar and he kept rising higher, cranking up the power.

Dawn was beginning to show on the horizon as the ship zoomed upward. Soon the jungle below became a mottled mat of dark green with several darker trails of rivers working along.

Treefort base was a low-expense base and the only serious reconnaissance they had been able to do was with drones taking picture of everything for forty miles around the camp. There were a couple rivers that passed a couple miles from the camp, and Jon decided that would be his best bet for the moment. For all Jon knew they could be on the other side of the world, though hopefully the Aschen would have stayed fairly close to the camp - a few hundred miles might be 'close' though with a ship like this.

Higher and higher Jon rose into the air, the altimeter showing sixty five thousand hands, though what a 'hand' was he didn't know. If he had to guess based on his flight experience on Earth, he would have said he was around forty or fifty thousand feet up. Of course, Treefort was a bit smaller than Earth, so maybe curvature would be more obvious than on Earth, so it might make him think he was … um, higher?

Jon shook his head. That wouldn't be much help - too many guesses. It wouldn't really matter, though, he guessed.

The planet's star was clearly visible to Jon now, though the jungle immediately below wasn't yet lit. Toward the rising sun, Jon saw a flash of gold in the jungle.

He started flying towards it, hoping. It looked to be close enough to the river that it _might_ be one of the golden plants. Jon had only taken Cassie to the closest one - there were several dozen scattered over a score of square miles, and a few of them were large enough that they might show up even from this distance.

Jon urged the ship toward the glint of gold. Cassie walked up to stand next to him, looking ahead at the main screen.

"You think those are the gold vine plants near our base?"

"Hoping so. A pair of rivers pass a few miles away from the base, and the Sun Traps are off in that direction. That could be one of them."

As they moved through the air a few more glints became visible and Jon tried to find one of the distinctive ones he had seen from pictures. Some of the botanists had suggested it was the oldest and perhaps dying - it was over two hundred feet across, but the center of it had died away, turning it into a giant golden ring. It was almost thirty miles away from the camp, but finding it would be a sufficient landmark.

"There!" Jon pointed ahead. "That gold ring down there; that looks familiar to one of the Sun Traps near our base."

Jon began dropping down through the air to get a better look. There was probably some way to zoom in their view but he hadn't tried to figure that out.

He and Cassie stared forward eagerly.

"Yes! That's it! There's the tree that's growing in the middle of it! I know where - "

Something impacted the base of his neck, slamming him down against the control panel.

"Aaahhh!"

Jon dazedly saw one of the Aschen wrestling with Cassie, struggling for control of the ray gun. He couldn't move and his thoughts were completely divorced from his still-stunned body. He realized Cassie was focusing too much on the weapon in her struggle. She shouldn't forget that -

The soldier let loose with one hand and slammed his elbow up into Cassie's chin, snapping her head back and probably knocking her unconscious.

'_Yeah, she shouldn't forget the other things you can strike with just because there's a weapon involved._'

The long-past training trickled through his mind as he dumbly watched. He felt her fall against him and the impact helped reconnect his thoughts even as it pushed him off the console where he had fallen. His hand slid across the control console and as he was falling, he felt the ship suddenly slam hard to the side, accelerating hard while tilting downward.

The haphazardly-stacked materials Jon had brought in tumbled along with everyone, including their attacker, sliding across the floor.

Jon hit the wall with a thud, Cassie landing on top of him. He groaned and slowly reached for his pistol. The soldier had managed to catch the console and was clawing to pull himself back up to reach the controls. The ship's acceleration and tilt made it hard for the man, but Jon could tell he was going to make it.

Jon pulled his pistol from his holster as the man reached the controls and tried to slow the ship, returning it to its regular upright position.

Jon only had his one hand available, the other trapped under his body, and he was still shaky from the blow to his neck.

Bang!

The recoil nearly jolted the gun out of his grip, but his aim had been true - the man's arm slewing back across the control panel as blood sprayed into the air.

Jon couldn't tell how the shot hit, but the arm's jerk had sent the ship into a spin, this time alarms began to blare through the ship as the rear door slid open and wind began to whip through the cabin.

Boxes, crates, and machines shifted and slid across the floor again as the ship's spin sent them streaking about the ship. Jon caught a spinning world visible out the back of the ship as he and Cassie were spun toward the front.

A few of the crates and one of the unconscious men went sliding out the open rear door as the ship began to roll while spinning, doing its best to be the most dizzying ride in the galaxy.

The spinning and alarms seem to go on forever as the ship spun out, but Jon could do nothing more than lie there, one hand weakly clutching Cassie's shirt, pressed hard against the forward bulkhead by the ship's spin.

A different alarm suddenly shouted out, "Emergency Automated Deceleration!" Jon's dazed mind couldn't grasp it all, but the effect was suddenly apparent.

"Shit!"

The words were weak, but heartfelt.

The ship jerked again, the relatively even pressure which had kept them plastered against the front bulkhead suddenly shifted with several jerks, flopping them about as the ship began to decelerate, unfortunately with the open rear hatch suddenly becoming 'down' as the ship tried to keep itself from slamming into the jungle floor.

Jon and Cassie slid and banged up against the silvery 'coffin' and lodged there even as most of the other crates and machines slid 'down' toward the open door and the jungle that was visible fast approaching. Jon looped an arm around Cassie's body, and clumsily twisted his arm through his belt, still feeling sluggish from the blow to his neck and the following impacts. The other arm scrabbled for purchase on the coffin, managing to wedge itself under the bulk of it. Jon hoped it would be enough - his grip still felt weak, so a wedged hand and arm would have to be enough.

The ship's emergency safety maneuver wasn't enough, though. With a horrendous crash, the ship smashed through the massive plants which formed the upper levels of the jungle ecosystem - massive, meters-thick trunks shattered into clouds of splinters as tons of hardened spaceship hull impacted them still moving nearly two hundred kilometers per hour. Through trunks, branches, and then vines and small plants the, ship blew through the final two hundred feet before the ground, engines and automated systems straining to avoid a crash.

Jon and Cassie slammed against the base of the console, as everything else in the cabin slid and crashed against the nearest walls. Jon felt a searing pain race through his arm as the ship jolted back and forth for a second, bouncing him up and down, back and forth, as it plowed through the jungle greenery. He yelled in agony as his arm snapped back and forth, and then a greater crash slammed his head against the metal floor, and he knew no more.

* * *

The ship lost its struggle to correct from the crazed maneuvers Jon and his attacker had given it.

The emergency safety routines had come close to succeeding in some ways. If it had another quarter kilometer, it would have been fine. The ship had been flying nearly four hundred kilometers per hour when Jon's swipe first sent it screaming down and sideways. By the time his attacker had pulled it from the dive, it was going nearly seven hundred kilometers per hour. The attacker's arm had triggered the rear left vector's thrust and the doorway, sending the ship into a spin, and the sideways air flow added a tumbling roll to the ship's motion.

When the final safety measures had finally triggered, five hundred meters was too little distance for the ship's automated systems to sufficiently recover from both its crazed spinning and its speed.

It came close, though. From seven hundred kilometers per hour, it had shed six hundred kph, corrected for the tumbling, and most of its downward motion. Its final impact had more horizontal motion than vertical, and the ship plowed through the jungle soil, sending sprays of dirt outward as it ripped a long gash through the dirt.

The engines lost power at impact and inertia took over. The ship bounced and ricocheted off trees as it went, carving a swathe of destruction as it went. Its momentum took nearly a hundred meters of destruction to dissipate into dirt and trees, leaving ripped metal and equipment sprayed along the length of its path.

Its final stop left a pile of dirt and ripped up plants nearly the size of the ship itself.

The jungle, almost always filled with the soft sounds of moving plants, softened into a stunned silence.

Inside the ship, the last few pieces of equipment and crates that avoided being ejected came to a rest, and emergency lights lit the dim interior. The deep red light showed Cassie's body still wedged inside Jon's arm, Jon's left wrist bleeding freely onto his belt from the ripped skin. His right arm, still wedged under the chrome coffin, bent sharply at three places, bones grotesquely pushing against the skin of his forearm and just above his elbow.

Eyes closed and body motionless, Jon's head was covered in blood and with the stillness of the ship, a pool of blood began to gather on the floor under him and flow a slow and sticky path down the slanted floor.

A man's voice softly groaned from somewhere in the ship.

* * *

**A/N: Poor Jon. I feel sorry for him - suffering so much! I should cut him some slack, let him have a better time of things in the rest of the story.**

**Ha! No way!**


	43. Of Monsters and Maidens

Anker groaned as he rose to consciousness. The pain of his injuries was mostly gone, but their memory was fresh. Or … no, the rest of his body actually _was_ sore. Very sore. His arms, shoulders, legs - what was going on?

His eyes slowly focused on the flashing red lights of their ship.

'_They put me in the ship to finish healing. Emergency lights flashing. An accident?_'

His thoughts, even while doped on painkillers still followed their regular orderly fashion he noted proudly. '_Unlike that idiot, Morwen, who's always flying off the helix at the smallest provocation. It's a surprise he's been tolerated on our team as long as he has._'

He tried to lift himself up and found his extremities bound to the railing with binding ties.

'_They must have strapped me down before the accident for safety. But if they were expecting the trouble … more data is needed._'

He tugged at the bonds and found them quite tight. He paused, considering. Too tight for merely keeping him from falling off the bed. Another piece of data.

He strained for a second and the bed groaned with the strain, but nothing broke loose. Disappointing, but not unexpected. He would need to try harder. His skin was tough enough to take the coming strain without too much damage, but it would still hurt.

He concentrated for a moment, triggering his adrenaline reserves, and yanked. The metal arm of the cot bent for a second and then the strap broke.

A small grimace pinched his eyebrows, his first expression since waking up. He carefully pulled out the needles feeding the quick flux cells patching his chest wound.

A flash of irritation crossed his face at the sight. Barbaric humans, using projectile weapons. The galaxy would be much better off after the Aschen brought them under control. They would be useful enough in fighting the Goa'uld if that were necessary, but their brash behavior had brought in an enemy from another galaxy. Fortunately Aschen had only lost two worlds to the fanatics and once the Ori Priors' powers had left, the Priors had been killed and the population underwent culling and reeducation.

He realized his thoughts were wandering, thanks to the drugs, and he pulled them back under control. Control was necessary. Considered action. The lesser races acted with emotion guiding them. The Aschen were superior. _He_ was superior.

A second burst of adrenaline and his other arm was free. He slid open the surgery tray from the wall and picked up a scalpel to free his legs.

He stayed still a moment, listening for any signs, and then got up. The floor was slightly tilted toward the back of the ship, and now that he could see more, the signs of a crash were obvious. It was a bad one. Even the emergency lights were mostly dark.

He considered the state of his body. Bruising and minor muscle tears at his joints from the bindings and crash. Painful but not debilitating. Chest wound still not finished healing, but mostly functional. He looked at the bent metal railing and snapped binding - regular strength was still low but at least his adrenaline reserves were available. He still had his pants and boots on, but his shirt had been removed to treat his chest wound. No weapons either.

He stood carefully on the sloped floor and then walked uphill toward the primary control desk. Completely dead. If the primary controls were dead, then the mission's primary goal was a failure since he didn't know how to run the clonal duplication system. He glanced ahead at the large, shiny box with irritation. Useless, now. He shook his head. Anger at objects was useless. Control.

Other than the gene operation casket, there wasn't anyone else visible in the shuttle. If anyone had survived, they must be outside, or perhaps strapped in the relief room. He walked down the sloped floor to the relief room. It's door was depowered and the ship seemed to have warped slightly. His fingers dug in, and with a screech of tortured metal, the door buckled and bent.

Nothing. The room had a little light leaking through cracks from the outside, showing a room empty of people. One of the chairs was in its reclined position, but other than that - nothing.

Outside was the next most likely place to search - the crash had sent everything sliding toward the back, and the door was open. Perhaps someone had gone outside - to check on possible repairs? That was pretty unlikely, but the possibility needed to be eliminated before he continued.

He stepped out onto the ripped up dirt and debris. The pile was nearly as high as the shuttle, with a narrow gap between the dirt and ship.

With a quick spring, Anker leaped upward, landing with his chest on the top of the shuttle fifteen feet above the ground. Something had sheared off the outer metal hull, and the jagged metal jabbed into his chest. Normally it wouldn't have bothered the hardened skin covering his torso, but the wound from that cursed human's unravved _projectile_ weapon was still tender.

"Cursed barbarian degenerates," he muttered as he stood up. They'd eventually learn their place.

The trail of the crashed ship was obvious, and he could already see a dozen crates and other pieces of equipment scattered along the length. The technicians couldn't have survived the crash, but perhaps some of his fellow enforcers had survived. Enforcers were as far superior to technicians as Aschen were to these humans.

He jumped down off the shuttle and began pushing through the jungle. Several of the items he saw strewn about he knew had been in the tent and he walked to several of them, examining with curiosity. Had his team been packing up? More and more puzzling.

Something caught his eye above and he paused in shock at the sight - Patros, fellow enforcer, hanging on a collection of branches and vines nearly fifty feet up. The tree that had caught it had a light cloud of hair-thin fronds that filled the air around it until something touched them, and then they secreted a sticky sap and began to contract, drawing the 'catch' in toward the main branches for consumption. Patros was wrapped in a thick gauze next to a branch. The tree wouldn't get much in the way of nutrients from the body, but it didn't know that.

Anker supposed it was possible he was still alive, and with several great leaps and scrabbling, he reached Patros' body and yanked away some of the sticky threads. No. Definitely dead. It looked like one of the cursed human guns had hit him in the shoulder and sometime not too long later his head had been crushed, probably as part of his fall. He looked above, trying to see where the fall had come through the upper levels of the jungle … and … yes, there. Several smaller tree branches were broken, and along the path were a couple thicker branches strong enough to withstand Patros' fall.

He struggled to maintain his clear mind - Patros had been a good Enforcer, always building a better world for the Aschen. A great loss.

He pulled the body loose from the branch and held it in one arm, still wrapped in sticky fronds, and made his way down, dropping through the tree's branches. As he landed, a swarm of pin pricks covered his arm. He looked down in irritation to see some plant had sprayed his pants and forearm with thorns. They hadn't pierced his pants, and his skin was tough enough that most of them hadn't been able to lodge. A quick shake knocked loose the few that had stuck.

He hauled the body back to the downed shuttle and returned to searching the crash route. It was over an hour later that he found another Aschen body, one of the technicians in charge of operating the gene casket. This body had crashed all the way to the jungle floor. The most alarming part was that his hands and feet had been bound.

"What in the Unraveled?"

There was too much damage to the body for him to determine anything other than he was bound, but that was enough to shine an entirely different and more sinister light on the crash. No mere accident. Somehow the humans must have escaped and bound the technicians. Anker had been conscious as his companions had taken the two humans back to the tent, and he would have sworn there was no way they could have escaped, except apparently they had!

They must have tried to escape when the shuttle arrived, but maybe Patros had escaped and tried to stop them, leading to a crash? But the humans weren't on … the … shuttle! They must have survived somehow! They must be somewhere around the shuttle!

He left the body where it was and began running back to the shuttle, burning adrenaline reserves with abandon. The plants whipped by in a blur.

It was only a few kilohands back to the shuttle. He had taken an hour coming this far out along the crash path, but that had been searching. Running straight back - be'd be there in minutes. He would need to track them down. Then call the mothership to come get them. Curses, but this was an unraveled mess!

His legs were a blur as he plowed straight through the jungle, uncaring of his route. Vines and bushes were crushed and snapped as he barreled through. Several times vines with long thorns lashed out at him as he passed, but his speed was too much for most of them. The only one that managed to touch him had scratched along his forearm, leaving barely even white scrapes on his thickened, hardened skin.

A small thrill twitched the corner of his mouth as he ran. Their observations had seen several humans caught by the same thorny vines and it had been obviously painful for them.

'_The humans might need to be careful around here, but I am an Enforcer - nothing can stop me._'

He bound through the jungle, only bothering to go over the thickest of plants with long jumps carrying him forty feet at a time.

'_There! The shuttle!_'

The shuttle showed through the jungle and he poured on a burst of speed.

He burst through the last couple bushes and skidded to a halt, leaving long skid marks behind him.

The female was standing next to the shuttle, staring at him in shock. She had a CD-703 in her hand. She must have picked it up somewhere in the shuttle. Not that it would do her much good against him. This might be a time he could let his feelings a little exercise.

Her shock cleared and she pulled it up, firing at him.

His increased reflexes made her seem to move in slow motion and he could tell where the weapon was aimed. His body's adrenaline-boosted reflexes let him jump three feet to the side before she could press the firing button. The blue beam shot through the space he had been a moment ago.

He smirked a little. Gutsy little thing, but doomed. He would break her into a dozen pieces with his bare hands to make sure there was no way she could escape again.

Twice more she shot, and he stepped aside each time, moving faster than she could track.

She stared at him in shock after the third failed shot and he reveled in the feeling of invincibility. He wasn't an impulsive, uncontrolled idiot like Morwen, but he admitted to himself that the feeling of power did provide a rush like no other.

He reached out to a branch nearby, keeping his eyes on the female and got a good grip on the branch. A half hand thick, it took nearly the last of his adrenaline reserves, but he ripped it loose with a quick jerk. The look of fear in her eyes was delicious. The branch provided a demonstration of what she was about to experience, but he planned to use his bare hands on her. The branch was just for some added intimidation.

She tried another shot, and this time he blocked the shot with the branch.

He grinned at her as he snapped the branch to an easily-swingable length and stepped toward her. She tried another shot, but he stepped aside again.

A small wave of exhaustion hit him - he was just about out of his reserves, but that was all right - he didn't need them to deal with the woman.

She turned and ran, darting around the other side of the shuttle. Smartest thing she could have done, but still useless.

He walked forward casually, smiling with anticipation.

First her, then the male. They'd pay dearly for the trouble they'd caused.

Cassie carefully worked her jaw as she bandaged Jon's head. It still hurt from the man's strike, but it was barely registering in her worry over Jon's state.

Jon's arm was turning a bloated and swollen sausage with the snapped and twisted bones. She had tried to keep from moving the arm, worried that it would just cause more damage, and instead focused on checking the rest of his body.

His respiration sounded clear, so she hoped he had escaped serious internal injuries to his chest. It was his head that worried her.

She had woken with his good arm still wrapped around her, and it had taken her considerable effort to wiggle out of his arm. It worried her that he hadn't so much as twitched as she escaped. There hadn't been much she could do, unfortunately. His head didn't seem to be still bleeding, but the amount of blood that had poured out before it had stopped bleeding was worrying. The swelling about his head even more so. She didn't know how long she had been unconscious, but the blood had clotted on the wound and the pool of blood was half-dried. Maybe an hour?

Now, there was nothing more she could do to help him. The helplessness as she sat next to him, possibly watching him die, nearly dragged her into sobbing despair, but she pushed back against the feelings as much as she could, trying to think of anything other than Jon dying.

Maybe they were close enough that they could call for help, if she could get the communications array working. She remembered some of the diagrams from when she had been working on the ship before. She tried several different of the ships interface surfaces, but none of them reacted at all. No power.

She found panels that exposed the inner workings of the computers, but again, nothing showed any power.

"Something in the crash must have cut out the power near the source," she muttered to herself. She wished Sam were here. Or her mom. Either one could fix the problems she faced.

But they weren't there. She'd have to try to fix things herself.

She grabbed the alien gun from where it was looped on Jon's pants. She didn't know if it would work against any of the plants on the planet, but it made her feel better.

It took several minutes of scrambling to climb up the pile of dirt and roots plowed up by the crashing ship. The top of the ship showed a little damage as she walked across it, several sharp-looking shards lay about from some of the blister-like domes broken by the crash. She looked for anything that might be a power system, but nothing looked likely.

A golden glare made her shade her eyes. It was one of the, what had Jon called them, Sun Catchers? Sun Traps? It was fifty feet away, and she squinted her eyes against the glare as she looked down the side. This had a lot more damage - huge chunks ripped away from the metal siding. Some sort of insulation still covered a few spots, but that was mostly ripped out too. Wires and pipes were ripped out, but there weren't any sparks suggesting power still flowing anywhere.

She carefully worked her way down the side and looked at what she could see of the bottom. Again, heavily damaged, but she didn't know anything about electronics to even make a guess at what the exposed machinery might be.

Despair began to weigh on her. She wasn't Sam, able to miraculously fix alien technology. She knew genetics, but that wasn't much use here and now.

She stepped around to the other side and stopped. A sudden crashing seemed to be approaching from the jungle! She gripped the alien weapon nervously, visions of an Elephent filling her imagination.

Suddenly a man burst into sight, running faster than she would have imagined possible. He skidded to a halt, leaving a long trail in the dirt behind him. Bare-chested, the wound on his side was clearly visible and it suddenly dawned on Cassie that the bed inside the ship had been empty!

'_Crap! It didn't even occur to me! He must have gotten out before I woke up!_'

His expression narrowed on her and she jerked the gun up and fired reflexively.

Her jaw almost dropped in shock. He had blurred to the side, dodging the blue beam!

'_What the hell?_'

She shot again, and once again she missed. The man had a small smile playing on his otherwise expressionless face. He was toying with her. She pressed the stud again and a third time he dodged the shot in a blur of motion.

She stopped her attempts and tried to think of what she could do. He took her pause to reach out and grab a branch four or five inches thick and casually twist and yank it off the tree.

Fear began to course through her body, replacing the shock. Fast. Impossibly strong. If he could rip a branch like that so easily, he could snap her in half without trying.

She tried a shot, and this one he blocked with the branch. She realized it had been off-target anyways, her hands shaking.

He snapped the branch in half, just using his hands, and the loud crack nearly broke her - if he got a hold of her ….

She fired again at him, knowing it would do no good, and took off running to put the ship between herself and the monstrous man. Her heart pounding, she charged through the jungle, stumbling and tripping, too panicked to pick her way with care. She barely avoided running into the Sun Trap plant's dangerous perimeter, running along the relatively clear edge around the huge golden ring.

She looked back and didn't see him, though with his speed he would easily catch up.

A thread of reasoning made it through her fevered panic.

'_I can't outrun him! Hide!_'

Just ahead, a large tree with a trunk at least eight feet thick provided her first opportunity. She ran past the tree trunk, just barely dodging the bare ground around the Sun Trap and turned to slide in behind the trunk, crouched, and tried to stop her panting.

After a few seconds, she brought her breathing under control enough she hoped it wouldn't be audible, and peeked around the trunk. She quickly jerked her head back, the man was trotting along only a hundred feet back, eyes to the ground, following her trail.

Her mind raced. She couldn't outrun. Couldn't hide.

The glare of the Sun Trap made her squint, but triggered an inspiration.

She crouched around the edge of the tree. Its tall, gnarled roots gave her cover if she crouched low enough. She would only have one shot at this.

She heard his footsteps approaching, not even making an attempt at stealth.

Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.

As the slowly jogging steps came next to the tree, she stood and fired the gun.

"Dodge this!"

The man barely had time to raise his hand as the blue beam lanced out at him, hitting his arm. The branch dropped from his grip, but he didn't fall.

A quick grimace passed over his face and his arm hung limply, but that was all.

The man bared his teeth and reached down for his club using his good hand. Cassie tried firing again, but it didn't work. She pressed the stud again and it finally shot, but he had already swung the club, catching the gun and sending the ray gun flying out of her grip.

Cassie stumbled back and landed on her back, tripping over the tree's roots.

The man's bared teeth grew into a predatory smile as he raised the club into the air.

"No," Cassie cried out, raising her arms in front of her with a futile gesture against the coming blow.

A rush flowed through her body and the man was suddenly flung back into the air, shock showing on his face.

He landed with a heavy thump, flat on his back and lay stunned for a second. Cassie scrambled to her feet as the man shook his head and began to rise himself.

He tugged at an arm once and then harder, yanking it free with an obvious effort.

Cassie saw hundreds of small roots rising up from the bare dirt around the man, wrapping around anything they could reach. He gave a violent jerk and pulled himself to all fours facing her, snapping the small roots with his strength.

He glared at her, gathering himself to break loose entirely.

Behind him, though, three larger roots snaked out from the golden leaves and wrapped around him, two grasping one arm and one another a leg. Still struggling the man yanked against them, twisting and grunting, trying to resist their pull. He managed to pull one leg free of the smaller roots and planted his boot into the dirt, pulling back with enough strength that he gained a step against the plant, his boots digging deep in the soil.

Several more tugs kept pulling himself forward, away from the golden leaves, but the success was only for a moment. A dozen more of the vines snaked their way out in a frenzy of waving tentacles.

The man screamed as they all latched onto his writhing form.

Arms, legs, waist, chest and even his head were covered by the waving mass. Jerking and lunging back and forth, his body nearly completely covered by vines, the struggling mass was slowly drawn backwards into the golden leaves.

Yells and grunts continued to emanate from the golden mass of leaves as they shook violently with his struggles inside, but slowly the cries of defiance and effort shifted to painful exclamations and then panicked screams.

Cassie's shocked paralyzation suddenly broke as the screams became raw with terror and pain, filling the jungle with the sounds of agony, and she fled. The cries still sounded far behind, hoarse and guttural, as she reached the ship and scrambled inside.

She wasn't sure if she could still hear the screams inside or if it was her imagination, but she curled up next to Jon and covered her ears, sobs wracking her body. The burst of terror having given her strength, but now leaving her exhausted and empty.

Exhaustion slowly brought her to a numbed state of quiet. She huddled next to Jon, the weight of fear for his life, the panicked flight, and the horrific 'rescue' taking the last of her reserves.

She didn't know how long it was before she next stirred. Some noise was making it into the ship's interior. Voices!

A mix of fear and hope rushed through her. Voices! Rescue!

A moment later two figures dropped down into the faint light still coming in through the door. A second later, bright beams of flashlights shined out.

"Is anyone here? O'Neill? Ms. Frasier?"

Cassie managed an inarticulate cry before blackness descended on her and she slumped next to Jon's motionless form.


	44. Hospitals! Bah!

**Sigh. I had a bunch of comments and stuff I wanted to put with the last chapter, but it was after 0100 and I completely forgot. They were good comments too! (at least I think so) All sorts of brilliant insights on Aschen cultural development and structure with the different societal roles filled by people like the Enforcers and how they weren't really a "special forces" equivalent but rather a secret police enforcement equivalent. Complete with why those roles developed and why they don't have the same type of military that Earth cultures have.**

**And then I was too tired, I forgot, and just posted the last chapter without any comments.**

**Something tells me that you all got off lucky. I would have been writing those comments at 0100 after a VERY long day at work. What might have come spewing out of my fingertips in that state should not be contemplated! ;-)**

* * *

**May 6th, 2011, SGC (three days later)**

Jon faded slowly into consciousness, rising from utter darkness to a vague awareness that he existed … somewhere. Time passed and he slowly realized that there was a world around him. It was a fuzzy existence, but it was there.

An ache in his right arm slowly made it through the fuzziness, the concrete pain slowly forcing the rest of the world into focus. His eyes opened to a familiar scene - the SGC infirmary.

He groaned. It was never good when he woke up in here.

"Hey there, handsome."

'_Cassie!_'

Jon recognized the sweet voice and blinked his eyes, focusing on the face. Her face was smiling, but she looked exhausted. He reached his left hand for hers, groping until she reached out and touched it.

"Nuh kay uh?"

"Just a second. You'll probably want a drink."

A second later a straw poked into his mouth and sweet coolness flowed over his tongue, erasing a parchness he hadn't realized was there until he had tried to speak.

"Yuh 'kay?"

Memories were returning - escape, search, attack, crashing.

Cassie's laugh reassured him before she spoke, "I'm fine, Jon. You're the one that scared us. You hit your head pretty hard, cracked your skull open, all sorts of horrible stuff." Cassie's voice was trying to stay light, but her expression was far closer to crying than cheerful.

"M fine. Glad yr a'right." His mouth had trouble forming some of the sounds.

"Yes you are. We crashed and … well, we were close enough that the base caught us on radar as we crashed. It took them a while, but they picked us up. We're back at the SGC. You scared us!"

"Too ornery to die. The Aschen?"

"They're all dead, at least all the ones we met on Treefort. I'm not sure about what else is happening with Earth and the Aschen. I told General Landry everything I knew, which wasn't much, but the ship we crashed is being pulled apart and they'll probably get lots of information from it and the equipment."

Jon nodded. "Good. You sure you're all right?"

Cassie shook her head. "I'm fine. That Aschen knocked me out cold, but you kept me safe during the crash."

She leaned forward and placed a butterfly-soft kiss on his lips. His arm and head ached, but not _that_ much! Jon lifted his head and pressed into the kiss, deepening it hungrily, reaffirming that she was real and safe. She responded eagerly, tongue sliding along his lips before darting in to meet his own. Jon reached his hand up and threaded his fingers through her hair, reveling in the feel of her.

"Ah, mouth to mouth resuscitation. Very effective in reviving people."

Jon felt Cassie jump away and he saw Dr. Lam beyond her, smiling.

"I wasn't, I mean, we -"

Dr. Lam waved down Cassie's stammering.

"Don't worry about it. If he's half as obstreperous as Jack, that's probably the only way to keep him in his bed."

Jon smirked at Cassie's blushing face as Dr. Lam began checking his vitals. He liked this doctor.

"However, I wouldn't suggest doing that much more. He still has his catheter in."

"Doc," Jon squawked! Maybe he didn't like this doctor so much.

She finished checking his respiration and began checking his eyes with the blasted little light.

"Hey, cut it out. I'm fine!" Jon turned his head away from the light.

Dr. Lam gripped his chin firmly and pulled his head back, shining the light again.

"Hmph. Vala did good work."

"Vala?"

Cassie answered his question. "Vala used the Goa'uld healing device on you once we brought you back here."

"If she hadn't, you'd be dead, Jon, so take it easy. I don't trust that machine entirely - I don't understand it well enough. But, Vala used it on your head three times and once on your arm. Your skull is patched back up, and initial tests show your brain isn't a swollen, bleeding mess any more, but that's all we can tell. You're going to be staying here until we make sure there isn't any danger of about five thousand different problems that could pop up and still leave you a vegetable."

She poked his chest hard. "Got it?"

Jon grimaced at her lecture. "It can't hurt anything to get up and take care of stuff myself, at least."

"Unless you fall and crack your head open again." Dr. Lam was glaring fiercely.

"I'll be careful! I'm feeling fine, really."

Dr. Lam reached out and flicked her finger against his forehead and Jon couldn't help but grimace at the flash of pain.

"Yup, I can tell you're just fine," Dr. Lam made a face. "Just stay in bed."

"I'll be staying right here," Cassie spoke up. "He's not going anywhere."

"Traitor," Jon muttered. He could tell was fading fast, but he still hated staying in a hospital.

"Thank you," Dr. Lam said to Cassie. "Lots of rest will help him recover more quickly."

Cassie bit her lip for a second before straightening her shoulders and nodding. Jon could see a little bit of blush on Cassie's cheeks and stifled a grin, imagining what she might have been thinking about.

Dr. Lam left and Cassie grabbed his hand. "You had me worried, Jon."

"It turned out all right, didn't it? I'm going to be fine."

He tried to hold in a yawn. "So, what happened after we crashed?"

"I'm not sure how long it was until I woke up, but - "

Jon lost his fight with sleep and was out.

* * *

"That's it! You're out of here! Go home!"

Jon jumped at the yell and spun, nearly crashing to the floor before catching himself, and saw Dr. Lam glaring at him from the entrance curtain.

"I wasn't going to leave, I was just going to … you know, um, grab a snack."

Dr. Lam looked to the sensors that had recently been on Jon and were now stuck to the unconscious soldier lying in the bed next to Jon's. The soldier had foolishly drunk some alien hallucinogenic booze at a celebration offworld and was now sleeping off the mother of all hangovers.

"And for a snack you couldn't have called the nurse?"

"I didn't want to annoy them," Jon tried to pacify her.

"Since when!?" Dr. Lam didn't look like she was being pacified. "In the last two hours, your alarms have gone off eight times! You're lucky the nurses haven't killed you yet!"

Jon quickly pointed to his machine, quietly showing vital signs. Not his own signs, of course, but the machine wasn't squealing an alarm this time. "See! No alarms going off. Everything's fine."

"Just get out," Dr. Lam said with resignation. "I'll have papers to sign in thirty seconds. No gate travel, but I'm kicking you out of my hospital."

Inside, Jon cheered, but he kept that out of his voice. "All right, I guess. Where are my clothes?"

Dr. Lam's suddenly sweet smile sent a chill down Jon's spine.

"Oh, I'm sorry. We didn't expect you to be leaving so soon - they're out at the base's laundry. There's a spare pair of pants in the cabinet over there," she gestured to a cabinet across the room. "Some pairs of shoes, too. There should be a pair that fit you. I'm afraid we don't have any shirts, but you can keep the gown for a shirt."

It was Jon's turn to glare. He certainly didn't want to be walking around wearing an infirmary gown for a shirt!

"I'll go draw up your release papers," Dr. Lam said with a cheery tone as she spun and quickly walked away. Jon pursed his lips in suspicion. She sounded far too happy, suddenly. He didn't trust her.

He shrugged. But he was getting out of here, that was the main thing.

He grasped the gown behind his back and walked with as much dignity as he could across the room to the cabinet. The gown only came down to mid thigh. With a pair of pants it wouldn't be too bad, he decided, but at the moment he felt like it would only take the slightest hitch to leave his jewels dangling for the world to see.

He pulled the cabinet door open and stared. Blue paper. I little clear plastic bags.

"Oh no wa-" Jon bit down on his exclamation. He grabbed one of the packages.

"Fine," he muttered, grabbing one of the pants. "If that's what it takes to get out of here, fine!"

"Don't forget a pair of shoes," one of the nurses called over to him in the midst of chuckles and giggles. "They're in the lower cabinet."

Jon gritted his teeth, gathered his gown together more tightly, and carefully squatted to look in the lower cabinet, his instincts warning him that he wasn't going to like it.

He gut feeling was right.

Little blue plastic, paper-like slippers with rubber dots on the bottoms for grips. He spun his head to glare at the nurses at the desk who suddenly burst into gales of laughter.

He wasn't going to give them the satisfaction! He would wear the stupid pants, the stupid slippers, and he'd get out of this stupid place! He grabbed a pair of slippers and spun back to his curtained off bed to change. A gust of air had him quickly reaching for his gown amid a second burst of laughter.

'_Stupid hospitals and their stupid pants and stupid shoes and stupid ..._'

Jon yanked the curtains closed around his bed and pulled apart the plastic bag, releasing the pants.

"What?! No way! I am not wearing these! Not a chance! No way, no how!"

The laughter reached new heights outside as the nurses heard him. In his hands were the "pants".

Papery blue plastic shorts.

"That's all we have on hand, Jon. We just sent the clothes out to the laundry." Dr. Lam's voice was horribly cheery and was clearly fighting down laughter. "You can wait, though. I want to draw some blood anyway, and we have a couple shots that are probably ok now that you're feeling better."

Jon quickly started pulling on the shorts. They didn't even reach as far down his legs as his gown! He pulled on one of the slippers and then the other.

The laughter had subsided a little, but when he jerked the curtain open and stomped toward the front desk it was too much for the nurses and they burst into re-heightened paroxysms of hilarity, two of the nurses doubling over, holding on to the edge of the desk to remain standing.

Dr. Lam stood with her lips pursed, her own laughter held in to shaking shoulders as she held out a piece of paper and a pen to Jon.

Jon snatched them from her hand and scribbled across the bottom of the paper.

"Jon? What - ?"

Cassie's voice came from the door. She had been at another debriefing for two hours.

"I've released Jon," Dr. Lam told Cassie. "He's not yet cleared for gate travel, but he can head home."

"Hmmm," Cassie considered. "I think this might be the new fashion hit of the season, Jon. Hospital chic."

"Not you too," he groaned at Cassie. "I'm getting out of here." He just wanted to get out of here. Needles, indignities, lousy food - hospitals were the pits!

He heard Cassie saying goodbye and then hurry to catch up to him as he headed to the elevators to the surface.

Several airmen stopped in stunned amusement as he stalked down the hall. Jon could hear their chuckles and giggles as he stomped past. He couldn't even stomp properly in this outfit and the draft was definitely blowing up his back. He grabbed for the back of the gown to try to hold it closed, but he was walking too fast, the breeze keeping the thin material waving.

Cassie stood next to him as he waited for the elevator to arrive and he glanced over to her. A little grin was turning the corner of her mouth, but she wasn't saying anything - something Jon very much appreciated.

The door opened to disgorge several people, including Jack.

Jon halted in mid step and stared.

The inhabitants of the elevator stared back.

Jack finally nodded to Jon.

"Hospitals," he said with disgust.

Jon returned the nod.

"Hospitals."

Their tones identical.

* * *

**A/N: Oh my goodness! Do you guys realize what I've done?! I've ended TWO chapters in a row without a cliffhanger! OMG! What's going to happen next? With this sort of bizarre behavior I might even have Cassie and Jon get together in the next chapter!**

**Eh ... nah. Probably not. I'm sure this "nice" phase is just a passing thing. Maybe I'll skip a head a couple years in the story to have Cassie pregnant and bleeding out in Jon's arms, a victim of Aschen revenge on Jon.**

**Yeah - that will make up for these last two non-cliffhanger chapters.**


	45. Coming Together

**Took a little longer for this chapter to get done. I'm trying to keep this story "T" rated but I don't want to leave things too bland or too "glossed over" either. So I was writing along and was pushing the rating a bit. And then a bit more, and a bit more. And a bit more. Finally I realized I had left the "T" rating _far_ behind. I continued writing it up because it was flowing well, but ... anyway, that's my excuse. I essentially wrote two versions of this chapter.**

**Sorry for the delay y'all. That's my excuse.**

**(and it's also a hint about what might be in this chapter)**

* * *

"Thanks Cassie. You saved my life and then … you saved my life."

Jon was dressed more comfortably thanks to Cassie making a trip into Walmart for him. Now they were parked in front of Sam's house.

"I think you saved me first," she said with a grin, but then turned pensive. "You'll need to give me the details of what happened after they poked their needle in me. I can't remember anything until I woke up on the ship, but it seemed like I had nightmares that I couldn't remember. During my second debriefing they kept asking if I remembered anything during that time and if I had noticed any changes of any sort since then."

Jon felt a flash of irritation. A lieutenant had come for his debriefing while he was still in the infirmary. Jon had reported everything, including Cassie's telekinetic storm. They had almost immediately done a second debriefing with Cassie, which had been part of the reason he had been so antsy in the hospital before Dr. Lam kicked him out.

"Did they tell you anything about what happened?"

Cassie shook her head. "No. They said my questions would be answered later. They didn't want anything I heard to influence my memories." She snorted. "Considering I don't have any memories of that time, I don't think that's a worry."

Jon mentally cursed the military. He understood their view, but these sorts of behaviors had driven him nuts back when he had been in it, and now that he was no longer officially a part of the military, it galled him even more.

"Well … how about we grab some drinks inside. It'll take a while."

Jon hoped it wouldn't disturb her too much. He knew Nirrti's manipulation was a reminder of terrors and death beyond imagination to Cassie. He hoped the reminder wouldn't be too painful for her. His heart already ached for her.

* * *

Jon held Cassie as the last of the day's light slowly faded from the sky.

The rest of Cassie's story after their crash had shocked him almost as much as Cassie had been shocked by hearing of the telekinetic storm she had created. That she had come so close to being killed while he had lain unconscious had shaken him and he had refused to let her out of his sight for the evening.

It had been a quiet evening with little conversation between them, though each of them seemed to draw comfort from physical contact and as they had silently made supper they had constantly traced fingers along each others hands, arms, shoulders - anything they could reach as they moved around in the kitchen.

Over and over it played in Jon's mind, his imagination more than capable of filling in all the detail - the alien's surprise appearance, Cassie's useless shooting, the growing terror, the flight, the failed ambush and the despair as the alien had been about to kill her. It was only her erratic powers that had saved her life.

'_Damn. I guess I have to be thankful for that damn snake's experiments since they saved Cassie. Not that the psychopathic snake actually cared. But still._'

She had choked back tears at the memory of hear the alien "being crushed to death", and Jon had held his tongue. It served the bastard right even though it was more horrible than Cassie knew. Plants couldn't really "crush" other plants to death - the Sun Traps had shorter vines inside the mass of golden leaves that excreted an acid that slowly digested whatever it caught.

Jon wasn't about to tell Cassie that, but he didn't feel in the least sorry for the guy.

He had also tried to play down Cassie's storm, but she had gone into "science mode" on him. It had probably been more of a coping mechanism, but she had questioned him on a million details - the estimated speed of objects, size, distance, force, effects outside of her vision. She figured out that the two Aschen caught in her storm had died, though Jon had definitely left out the gory description of their blood coating everything. He had plenty of memories of things much more horrible than mangled bodies and blood spray, but he didn't want Cassie to have to deal with those sorts of things.

Now, they had finished their dinner and were just sitting out on Sam's back patio, shoeless, relaxed, and Cassie sitting on his lap with his arms around her. Jon rubbed his fingers up and down the length of her arm. She was safe. His heart thudded again and his stomach tied in knots as the thought of how close he had come to losing her.

'_She's the most precious thing in the universe and I'm never …._'

The thought suddenly struck Jon. He had really liked Cassie when they'd started dating, or at least their version of it. He had fallen for her, been in love with her without a doubt, but he'd been deeply in love with Sarah and married for years and had been deeply in love with Sam no matter how much life had conspired to get in their way before Loki had _really_ screwed things up.

He had known the difference between being in love with someone, and being in love with someone who was wound up with every part of him so tightly that he wasn't sure how he could survive without her.

His life without Cassie being there to share it with him was a barren, lifeless thing not worthy of being called a life.

He hugged her more tightly as he realized just how deeply his feelings ran.

Cassie looked up to him as he tightened his hug and he pressed a kiss to her cheek.

Salty moisture coated his lips.

"Cassie? What's wrong?" Worry and pain far more painful than his aching ribs writhed in his chest as he tasted her tears.

"Nothing. I almost lost you. I almost killed you! If you had gotten caught in my, my - " she choked down a sob. "I nearly killed you!"

"Hey! It's all right. I can think of a few ways I could have escaped." That wasn't entirely a lie, he could think of several, but he didn't think they were particularly likely. "I'm also pretty sure you would have snapped out of it if I had gotten caught in there. You wouldn't have hurt me, I know it."

It crossed his mind that this was certainly an odd turn of events. A six foot one, hundred eighty pound, elite special ops soldier trying to convince a slim, female scientist that she wouldn't have killed him.

He pressed kisses to her hair, her temple, her ear. "It's fine. I'm here. I'm not leaving you - ever."

A little shiver went through her and she turned into him suddenly, meeting his soft kisses with fierceness and fire. He felt her hands grab his head and crush his lips to her own. Deep inside he knew it was just relief and stress letting itself out, but he had plenty of his own stress that was now being given an outlet, and his body roared to life to meet hers.

His fingers shifted from soft caresses to frantic grasps as he gripped and clawed at her body, pulling it tight against his own as she writhed in his lap. He needed to feel her even more, to hear her, to see her, taste her. Their tongues thrust and counter-thrust for dominance, and he could feel her nails rake his shoulders through his t-shirt as she shifted so her knees straddled him letting her push his head back with her kisses. He grasped her ass through her jeans and pulled her hard against his body as she devoured his mouth.

At the back of his mind a tiny voice yelled that this might not be the best idea. Stress sex. She might regret it later. Pull back a little. Make sure she's really ...

Cassie began rubbing her groin against the hard planes of his stomach and moaned into his mouth.

Jon's mind crashed to its basic instincts and all other thoughts fled. She was _his_!

Jon picked Cassie up with a lunge, gripping her hands under her ass and standing up.

Cassie squealed and then bent down to again capture his mouth while rubbing herself against him.

His mind burning with desire, Jon staggered back into the house - paying no attention to where he was going, fully focused on the little mews of passion coming from Cassie's mouth as she rubbed her hips and breasts against his body. Jon kissed her back with abandon, grabbing and pulling at her body, mind driven to distraction as her aggression and passion broke through to the long-restrained desire that had been building up in him.

They stumbled through the door until they hit a table. The momentary block slowed them enough that her shirt was discarded. Jon delighted in feeling her skin below his hands. Their times together before had been carefully chaste as he had worried about moving too quickly, but that was all discarded as Cassie's heat ignited his own flames.

He went to pick her up again, but she pushed him back and began yanking at his shirt, tugging it up until he raised his arms to let her strip it off over his head and throw it aside.

Cassie brought her head down and began kissing and biting across his chest, sending shivers down his body until he couldn't take it any more, and gathered her back against his body.

Their staggered path through the house left a bra discarded against a wall. Cassie's jeans dropped at the back of a sofa. Jon's against the wall just outside Cassie's bedroom.

Minutes later, Cassie's gasping cries filled the house followed shortly by a long, rolling growl as they found and spent their passions on each other.

* * *

Jon idly rubbed shapes on her skin as they lay in the bed together, his mind nearly blank with a rapturous glow, luxuriating in the feel of her naked body pressed against his own. Cassie's fingers were tracing shapes on his abdomen and occasionally drifting down to scrape up his inner thigh, just barely brushing past his rod on its way back up to his stomach.

Jon smiled at the little twitches she elicited. He couldn't remember ever being quite this happy and contented.

"I think I could stay like this forever," Cassie murmured.

Hummed deeply. "Forever sounds really good to me."

A minute passed and Jon finally rumbled as her fingers again trailed just past his beginning-to-swell erection.

"Forever is going to pretty quickly involve some more activity if you keep that up, you little minx."

Cassie giggled softly and quickly licked his chest before pressing a kiss to it.

"Thank you, Jon."

"Nuh uh. No way. I'm the one who should be thanking you. That was incredible, and you - you are wonderful."

He felt her press another kiss to his chest.

"Nope, definitely thank _you_," she said more firmly. "I never imagined that it could be so wonderful. My girlfriends all complained that their first time wasn't much fun. This was amazing. _You_ are amazing. Thank you."

Her words finally soaked through to Jon.

'_This was her first time?! And I went rutting ahead full blast! And - oh crap!_'

"Oh God, I'm sorry, Cas," he blurted out. "If I had known, I would have been more gentle! I - "

"Hey!" Cassie interrupted him, pulling herself up his body enough to kiss him, decisively shutting him up. He kissed back even as guilt began to roil in his stomach.

She lifted her head and he began to speak again, desperately wanting to assure her that he would be better and more considerate ... but even as he began to speak, he felt her finger over his lips and her eyes were gazing into his.

"It didn't hurt. About a month - "

She suddenly stopped and looked away. Curiosity poked through his guilt.

"A month …" he prompted.

"Um," she began, biting her lower lip. "About a month ago, I, um, got a bit … enthusiastic … thinking of you one night and … um, well … um ..."

Jon grinned. He could imagine. In fact, wow could he imagine!

Relief that he hadn't hurt her after all combined with the mental image of Cassie lying back, thinking of him, saying his name as she had her fingers -

Jon kissed her suddenly. Fiercely.

For a moment he explored her mouth with his tongue, and then she responded, a bit more slowly than before but with growing enthusiasm. She finally pulled back and Jon groaned at the loss of her lips.

"Are you sure you don't mind? That I didn't have - I mean, you're not just trying to make me feel better?"

It took Jon a moment to work things through in his sex-addled mind, but he finally put together that this was her first time, in spite of how incredible she had been, and she was probably feeling insecure. She was so mature in every other way that ...

He shook his head.

"Not only do I not mind, but that mental image is, well," he took her hand and placed it over the evidence that he _very_ much liked what she had said.

Cassie gently wrapped her hand around him for a moment before sliding herself all the way up on top of his body.

"Well, if that's your … reaction, then I should probably do something about it."

Jon's body flared hot as she began to move on top of him and groaned as he once again began to lose himself in her touch.

* * *

**A/N: There is an "M" version of this chapter. If anyone wants to read it, let me know. I'm nowhere near the skills of some of the _really_ hot and steamy writers around here, so no promises about its quality. If enough people actually want to read it, I'll post it as a separate one-chapter story with the proper rating.**


	46. Getting Revved Up

**Still working on the next chapter, and I had intended to include this as just a part of the chapter, but it's taking a bit to finish, so I decided to post this bit here. Wouldn't want to keep you guys in suspense or anything. ;-)**

* * *

**May 14th, 2011, Stanford, CA**

Cassie was wrapping up her final report for her classes. Her trip to Treefort had disrupted her classwork even though it had been an excused absence. Thankfully she only had two "normal" classes and she had aced through most of the work until she had been pulled away. She had quickly crammed for the finals while also working to finish off her four honor studies classes that were taking the place of regular classes while allowing her to work for the school's research center.

Jon was going to be here!

Jon had been medically restricted from going through the Gate for three days, staying in Colorado Springs with Cassie. Cassie still felt a tingle and a clenching deep inside when she thought of those three days. She had quickly lost track of how often they had made love. They hadn't been able to do much of anything without having it get sidetracked into more sex.

Breakfast rarely happened before noon, and got interrupted as well, sometimes more than once.

She shivered at the memory of their attempt at a breakfast of pancakes and syrup.

They never had gotten around to breakfast that day.

Cassie let out a shuddering breath and squeezed her legs together, trying to calm herself before returning her focus back to her paper. It was all written, but trying to finish the final draft tweaks while thinking of Jon was not working out very quickly.

Jon had very, _very_ quickly set up a two week vacation for himself and was supposed to arrive in just a couple hours.

She checked her watch. Six o'clock. He'd texted her a few hours ago, just after he'd gotten back on Earth. He'd expected to be able to catch a military flight out pretty quickly - estimated an eight or nine o'clock arrival.

So soon, but still so long!

Even if Jon weren't about to arrive, she would probably have still had a hard time concentrating. Cassie had been approved to begin working on the Aschen samples along with what was several large servers worth of information pulled from their downed ship.

Stanford, and specifically Cassie, had been contracted by the military to study "various information on genetics". Everything was stored down in Los Alamitos, and she'd be living there on base for the summer as she worked on it. That was exciting enough and -

She pulled her focus back to her paper for the hundredth time.

"Aw, the hell with it," she said to the empty lab.

The only differences she would be making were wording. The data was solid. If the paper eventually became a published research paper, she would be doing mountains of further work on it.

Her last paper, now that she had decided to only work on glaring things, went much more quickly and she had sent them off to her professors and logged out an hour later.

Her phone beeped.

*_Where you at? I made it more quickly than I thought._*

Cassie nearly squealed!

*_About to walk out of the Center. Meet up somewhere?_*

She wanted to see him anywhere, but she sort of hoped they'd make it back to her apartment quickly. She was ready to rip his clothes off. She felt a little self-conscious telling him that, so she'd go along with anything he suggested, but if she had her way … well, she'd be having her way with him!

*_Thought so. Cameron flew me out. We're coming in from Pillar Point. Be there in five._*

Cassie's heart started racing.

"He's here," she couldn't help exclaiming as she hurried down the hall.

"Who's here?"

Cassie looked up to see Vanessa Richards walking down the hall towards her. The Center was far emptier than normal, thanks to so many students doing or done with finals.

"Oh, hi Vanessa. Um, my boyfriend is coming to pick me up."

She still felt plain next to Vanessa, but dating the man of her dreams and having just spent several days doing nothing but fucking the brains out of said man had … reduced a bit of her insecurity around the gorgeous woman.

"Is that where you were? We all wondered where you had been for a week. None of us would have guessed you skipped out for a crazy week with the boyfriend. Good for you!"

"Actually, there was a project that I had signed up to help with a few months ago and they suddenly called me in. But, I did get to, um, see him a bit."

Vanessa pursed her lips at Cassie, considering.

Cassie could feel a blush rising.

"Sure honey, you just 'saw him a bit,'" Vanessa drawled. "You've been floating around here with your head in the clouds ever since you returned."

'_Oh screw it! I'm certainly happy enough about it! No need to be embarrassed!_'

Cassie shrugged and grinned widely, letting her joy show.

Vanessa squealed.

"Oh girl! With a grin like that, it must have been a lot more than 'a bit'!"

Cassie giggled, and didn't care that she had.

"Well, we had a couple days where we both had to stick around, just in case, and we had to do something to pass the time."

"Mmmm, that sounds like a great time. Good for you! Have you managed to catch up on semester-end stuff? You had the histones project that was giving you headaches, I remember."

Cassie began walking as they talked, eager to get outside to meet Jon but always more than happy to talk about her studies.

"The problem is a lack of research into histone behavior. It's not an area that has had much attention compared to the traditional chromatin research. The few studies out there suggest to me that histone modification could be happening and significantly affecting expression based on …."

Cassie continued her discussion with Vanessa as they made their way out to wait in front of the center. Vanessa, in spite of her tall, blonde, model appearance, was a very smart woman - smart enough that she was able to still have a life while doing her doctorate work.

"I vaguely remember reading someone at Mt. Sinai was doing some work with histones. It was at the GSA conference last year - he was a guest speaker but - " Vanessa's words were cut off by the roar of two motorcycles approaching.

Around the road's curve, Cassie saw two motorcycles racing toward the center's entrance. The lead motorcycle rider wore a black racing jacket and helmet and seemed almost certain to wipe out as he turned into the loop of the center's entrance. He set down a foot as the cycle skidded around in a sharp curve, sliding through for almost the entire length of the curve before coming to rest at the curb.

The second rider, wearing only a black t-shirt and helmet was close behind and skidded around the loop only slightly more under control to slide in next to the first bike.

Cassie recognized the chest and arms of the second biker and went running toward him.

"Jon!"

He was flushed as he took off his helmet, brown hair spiking out all over, and a wild grin lighting up his face.

Cassie reached him before he could get off the bike and jumped for him. He caught her in mid-air and she wrapped her legs around his waist as he set her down on the bike in front of him.

She grabbed his face and kissed him as hard as she could. She couldn't believe how good it was to see him! It hadn't been long, really, but she felt like it had been years. She ran her fingers through his soft hair as she kissed him.

"I missed you," she whispered when they came up for air.

Jon gave a little growl that sent jagged bolts of desire arcing through her body. "Missed you too, Cassie. I couldn't wait to see you again."

He pulled her into a hug and she settled her head against his neck, reveling in the feel of him.

"I don't think you're gonna get that beer he owes you."

Vanessa's voice finally registered and Cassie reluctantly let go of Jon, feeling slightly embarrassed. She was supposed to be a ….

'_Hell, I'll be as crazy, silly in love as I want to be. Who cares what others think!_'

She twisted in Jon's arms to look at Vanessa. She was talking with the first biker, who turned out to be Cameron. They were both looking at Jon and Cassie with amusement while talking.

"Who owes who a beer," she asked.

Jon shouted out as Cameron opened his mouth to speak. "He cheated!"

"If ya' ain't cheatin', ya' ain't trying hard enough," Cameron replied with a grin. "I seem to remember some old coot saying that. Wait, that was you."

Cassie laughed as Jon spluttered a little.

"He set me up from the beginning! We were still flying in when he starts talking about being able to get a couple bikes to take in from the airfield and how he's gonna beat me. Yeah, there are a couple bikes there all right - one of which is his personal pet!"

"Hey! I gave you the one with more power! You lost on skill, geezer, admit it!"

Cameron's response sent Cassie into giggles. She could imagine the two testosterone-filled flyboys getting into just that argument.

"Skill kept me in the lead until you took some shortcut, cheater!"

"Cassie, darling, I think we should leave these two boys to argue it out; I'm sure we can go get some of our own drinks."

Cassie puzzled at Vanessa's words. Why was she including herself? They hadn't planned on going out for drinks. Was Vanessa going to try to make a play for Jon? She gripped Jon a little tighter.

Cameron glanced at Vanessa and then at Jon. "How about this, Jon - we'll take these lovely ladies out, I'll let you buy me a beer, and I won't even rub your face in your _loss_." He spread his arms open in a magnanimous gesture. "You can't get more generous than that. Whaddya say?"

Cassie felt Jon give her a squeeze.

"I guess that's about as good a deal as I'm going to get out of a _cheater_ like you," Jon replied.

Cameron pulled out a second helmet and handed it to Vanessa, saying something, but Jon began whispering in Cassie's ear.

"We won't be out for long, though, gorgeous. I have some other plans for tonight."

Jon's tongue just brushed the inner edge of Cassie's ear and she shuddered. She really shouldn't worry about Jon - he wasn't the type to jump after a pretty skirt just because.

She glanced over to Vanessa who … oh.

Vanessa had a hand on Cameron's arm and was stroking a hand along the bike's gas tank, smiling widely. Maybe her interest wasn't in Jon.

"Good," Cassie whispered back as Jon began nuzzling her neck. "Because, um, if you didn't have plans, I, uh, had some plans. If we - if we leave these two alone, well, they probably, um, won't complain."

Jon hadn't stopped nibbling on her neck as she had been talking, and she was losing her train of thought.

"That's nice," Jon murmured. "I like having you here. I hadn't thought of it until now, but you, me, some privacy, and a motorbike is sounding pretty damn good."

Cassie agreed, and rolled her hips into his stomach, capturing his mouth with her own. Maybe Cameron and Vanessa would just go off without them; she and Jon could take care of themselves.

"Hey you two!" Cameron's voice broke into her enjoyment. "Any more of that and we're gonna get arrested."

Jon chuckled and lifted her up and off. Cassie added that to her list of things she liked - he was strong enough to lift her around easily.

'_Of course I guess I already knew that,_' she thought to herself, remembering her time with Jon the previous week. Cassie knew she wasn't a tiny girl, even if she was slim, but Jon had easily supported her in a couple different positions they had used last week.

That memory sent a stab of heat deep down inside her, and she shook her head to bring her thoughts back to the here and now, seeing Jon holding out an extra helmet for her with a questioning look to his eyes.

She blushed a little as she pulled it on and climbed on behind him. She wrapped her arms around him, pressing her body against his back, and digging her fingers into his hard stomach. The rumbling of the bike rolled through her body, enhancing the excited tingling that was already sitting deep between her legs.

'_Oh my God, but I love motorcycles!_' They hadn't even moved yet, but she loved it. Then the bike took off with a muffled roar and she had to pull herself against Jon even more tightly. '_Yes, I definitely love motorcycles!_'

* * *

**A/N: I happen to love 'em too. I have more coming, hopefully soon.  
**


	47. When You Wish Upon A Star

**Ok, here's the rest of what I was working on when I posted the last chapter. Maybe I should have waited and put these two together. *shrug***

* * *

Jon wondered how much self-control he had left. Cassie, Cameron, Vanessa and he had been talking animatedly over a couple beers at a bar and grill just a mile outside the Stanford Medical Center. The conversation was filled with laughter, but Cassie was driving him nuts! Right now her fingers were tracing up and down the inside of this thigh. Several times he had jumped a little as she had flicked a finger hard against the tented crotch of his pants.

'_Damn it woman!_'

She had just raked her fingernails hard up his already erect length, and the rough scrape over his jeans had … whew!

He had his arm around her shoulders and was able to occasionally brush the side of her breast with a thumb or finger, but Cassie had a huge advantage of having a free hand under the table.

He checked his watch as he grabbed a tortilla chip. Twenty thirty five.

'_Good enough. I'm gonna lose it if I wait much longer!_'

"Cam, I'm gonna - "

His words were cut off as his base-issued phone vibrated and buzzed. As he picked his phone up, he noticed Cam was reaching in a pocket as well.

Notifications for text messages appeared even as it continued to buzz.

"Sorry girls, I've gotta take this."

"Me too," Cameron agreed.

They both slid out of the booth and flipped open the phones. The fact that they weren't pagers was a huge step forward for the military, but even for the SGC modern phones were still to come.

A recording played as Jon listened.

"_Emergency activation. All personnel are to immediately report back to their base of operations. Contact your base communications office for further details._"

It played back three times and then ended. A quick check showed the text messages were essentially the same.

Cameron was looking worriedly at Jon.

"Any ideas what's going on?"

Jon shook his head. "They did this during the Ori plague, and way back when our favorite half-ascended snakehead showed up. Crap. It's serious, whatever it is."

As Jon finished, he noticed the timbre of the background noise had suddenly shifted in the place. He looked about.

Several groups of people were gathered around the front windows and looking up into the darkening evening sky and buzzing with conversations.

The tiny worm of worry that had started to wiggle in his gut suddenly grew.

"Cam, we'll get the girls home, and we need to get back to the ship."

Cameron nodded.

Cassie came up next to Jon with Vanessa following. "What is it? Something wrong?"

"We're required back at Cheyenne Mountain. Dunno why yet. We'll take you two home first."

"Cheyenne Mountain?" Vanessa chimed in. "I thought you guys said you are based at Peterson? I know they're close, but they're completely different types of bases."

Jon's jaw dropped and he noted the others had similar expressions.

"I, um, I didn't realize you were so familiar with military bases." Jon was the first to recover his speech.

Vanessa looked uneasy and glanced at Cameron. "Well, my father is stationed at Cheyenne. He says it's Deep Space Telemetry, but that's a load of shit. He's been there for a year now, but hasn't said much about what's happening."

"Wait, wait," Cameron finally spoke. "Is your dad is General Richards?"

Jon hadn't remembered the woman's last name, but it must be 'Richards' from Cameron's reaction. General Richards was heading up the SGC, and had been for, yup, about a year.

Vanessa shrugged, still with an uneasy look. "Yeah." Her previous confidence had left her.

"Oh, um, wow, I, well - "

Jon would have laughed at Cameron's flummoxed expression.

Vanessa put her hand on his arm, "I'm sorry I didn't say anything. I didn't want to, you know … I mean usually, well - "

'_The anti-sentence disease is spreading._' The thought floated through Jon's mind and brought a small smile to his lips. He decided to butt in.

"Small world, and all that. We still need to get going. We'll take you two home and then we really need to go."

"I'm coming with you guys," Cassie said.

"Like hell. We don't know what's going on."

"I'm coming too," Vanessa chimed in.

Jon didn't stop looking at Cassie. "You're not cleared."

"And Cassie is?"

"We don't know what's going on - I might be needed."

"We don't know if you're needed, if I'm needed, or anything else, Cassie. We've been called in, and that's all we know. Stay here at Stanford."

"Hey guys," Cameron said, but Jon ignored him.

"Wait. Cassie. Your mystery trip was in the Mountain? What are they doing in there that _you_ would be working on?"

"It's classified," Cassie quickly replied to Vanessa. "Jon, if they need me, I need to be there right away. Not wait for a day for traveling."

"Hey guys!"

Cameron's voice broke through the collection of crossing conversations, and Jon looked up.

Cameron pointed to the windows and doorway where the entire bar had gathered, all gazing out into the sky.

"You might want to see this."

Cameron led them to the window and they squeezed into the crowd until they could look up into the sky to see what had captured everyone else's attention.

Jon gaped.

Four shooting stars seemed to be coming down through the sky, and trails showed where several more had been. The meteorite that seemed to be closest suddenly exploded like a firework with what seemed to be thousands of smaller meteorites scattering like a giant firework.

From what he could make out of the excited hubbub around him, this had been going on for several minutes.

A minute later, a second meteorite exploded in a similar fashion, while four more became visible further away. One of the meteorites seemed to be heading directly for his location, and the crowd around him shifted from an excited tone to one of nervousness. Jon could see people in the crowd outside begin to run for cover.

Jon tapped Cameron on the the shoulder and jerked his head before pushing his way back out of the crowd, grabbing Cassie's hand to take her with him.

"Those aren't regular meteorites. They're coming in way too slow, and they shouldn't be breaking up like that - they're artificial."

"You mean they're satellites or some sort of space junk," Cassie asked.

"Nope. Their entry is too controlled, and they are coming apart too neatly. They're designed to be doing this. We're - " Jon glanced at Vanessa and adjusted what he was going to say, "we're gonna have to get going."

Vanessa paused for a moment, and then her mouth dropped open. "Fuck! We're being attacked! From space!"

Jon looked at Cassie and Cameron, both of whom shared his uncertain expression. Yeah, they were being attacked by aliens.

Cassie suddenly grabbed his arm, her face suddenly white.

"Jon," she hissed. "The people that … um, caused problems for us a week ago. Um … shit. Oh shit. We need to talk. Securely."

"Scale of one to ten on the bad-o-meter," Jon asked.

"Ten. Hell, eleven. You know what happened to my people. Think that."

Jon's heart stopped.

Cassie's entire planet had been wiped out by Nirrti with a biological plague. Aschen. Biology. Sickness. Dispersal.

Vanessa grabbed Cameron's arm. "What? What's that mean?"

"We're going. Vanessa, you're coming. The X-410 can fit us all."

Jon strode for the door and pushed his way out through the crowded sidewalk. A quick glance at the sky showed him what he feared. The meteorite that seemed to have been heading for them had exploded almost directly overhead like the others if the trail was any indication.

Jon thought he could see little dots scattered across the sky from the explosion as he sprinted toward the parked motorcycle.

'_There's got to be at least a dozen that I can see, and buildings are blocking part of the sky. No way that they're only targeting this city. In fact, if they're hitting here, then they are probably hitting a thousand higher priority sites too. Shit._'

In seconds they were all roaring through the city, back toward Pillar Point Station.

* * *

**A/N: Ok, I'm hearing your groans: "Oh my god, will this guy just finish the story already!?" and "He's dragging it out further?!"**

**Well all I can say is "sucks to be you".**

**Don't worry, though, this is entering the final Act. You don't have to suffer much longer. We'll see how many cliffhangers I can squeeze into the remaining chapters! ;-D**


	48. Yeah, We're Toast

**Geez, don't worry guys. Just because we're entering the final act doesn't mean there won't be thirty more chapters! (well, maybe not quite that many)**

**This and the next chapter have gotten SO MANY revisions! So they're going to be great chapters, right? They've had lots of work put into them, so they'll be filled with tight prose, brilliant characterizations, and shit like that, right?**

**Nah. They've been revised so much because I kept slapping myself for stuff that didn't fit my views of "science reality". You know the stuff - in movies where they sharpen up a grainy video and get a nice, clear picture of a person's face, or they hear explosions in space, or they say stupid stuff like all of the Internet flowing through a single building of computers (I'm looking at _you_, Avengers 2!).**

**Yeah, that stuff drives me up the wall. So while I had a rough idea of how things were going to be happening, when I started writing down the details, it fell far short of my sense of "reality". So, yeah, the entire Aschen attack has gotten a LOT of tweaking, and I'm still not happy with some of the stuff.**

**So, anyway, who needs clever dialogue or three-dimensional characters! Gotta make sure the "science" in a sci-fi story isn't too silly.**

**Priorities!**

* * *

"Oh my God! This is incredible!"

Vanessa's whoop brought a grin to Jon's face even through his worry.

The X-410 was the the newest addition to the Earth fleet, or would be once it went into final production. It was a middle point between the F-302 fighter and the Daedalus-class battle cruiser. Capable of holding a crew of eight and moderate cargo, it had shields, FTL drive, a cloak, and some significant weaponry. While it wasn't as agile as the F-302, it was still able to run circles around air fighters. They were only a few seconds in the air, but were already over a mile high and beating mach two.

The altitude gave them all a better view of the situation - hundreds, no, thousands of the objects were streaming down through the atmosphere as far as the eye could see in every direction.

It looked bad to Jon, even though he wasn't exactly sure what the "it" really was. Time to fix that.

"Cam, I want to try picking up some of whatever these things are that are coming down."

"Will do."

The ship banked hard while flipping over in a roll before heading back over the city. Vanessa's squeal of delight suggested the reason for Cam's fancy maneuver. Thankfully the artificial gravity and inertial dampeners combined to kept them from feeling what must have been a twenty-G maneuver. Instead it was like a car quickly taking a turn.

"While we're up here, I want to try shooting down a few of those things too."

"Knock yourself out, Jon. Weapons table is over there," Cameron gestured to one of the desks. "The plasma guns are going to be your best bet. The rail guns aren't going to be precise enough in atmo. We don't carry any missiles at the moment."

Cassie came up next to him. "Jon, there are thousands of those things out there, probably millions - shooting a few down won't make a difference, especially if this is happening all over the country, or even world."

"Yeah, I know. I want to test what sort of defenses these things have more than actually knock enough of them out. That might give us an edge if we get a way to start shooting them down en mass."

"I see. I think it's too late, though."

That statement worried Jon, but he still wanted to do what he could at the moment.

The weapons controls were similar enough to the X-301 he had flown back before he'd split from Jack that he was able to work them out, and thankfully the falling objects made for beautifully big targets with their fiery entry.

Turn on automatic tracking adjustment. Select the closest one. And … fire!

A white-hot ball of plasma left a streak through the atmosphere, fast enough that it only revealed itself not to be a solid beam with a careful examination.

It impacted one of the falling objects nine klicks away in a tiny fraction of a second. The resulting blast was less than impressive, but thoroughly effective.

Jon quickly latched the targeting computer onto three other objects and fired again. Three more shots went out, and three more targets were destroyed.

"Yes!" Jon punched the air in jubilation. "They're dumb versus firing! We can blast them out of the sky!"

He looked at Cassie with a grin, but she didn't seem to share his jubilation.

"What's wrong?"

Cassie opened her mouth to respond, but Cameron's voice interrupted. "I'm seeing whatever these things are scattering when they pop. They're just falling slowly. They're … " Cameron's voice faded out and Jon felt the faintest of shifts as Cameron almost instantly slowed the ship.

"They're weird little things is what they are."

Jon had to agree. Cameron had drawn up their ship to almost hover next to one of them in mid-air. It was a helicopter-like drone, only a foot across with a comparatively large belly.

"Cam, how fancy can you get? That thing is barely moving. Can we open up the rear hatch on this thing and snag that thing?"

"Sure, but you're gonna want your earplugs in. The sirens are going to bitch like crazy about having the door open while flying."

Even as he was speaking, Cameron was pulling back and spinning.

"Unlock the door. Yes, I know we're flying. Ok, open the door. Yes, I really want to open the door. Yes, I know I'm flying. Yup, I know there's going to be an alarm." Cameron was tapping through warnings on a screen and finally made it through them all, opening the door and setting off a teeth-vibrating wailing of alarms. "Told ya'!"

Jon carefully walked to the back of the ship that was now opening up the twelve foot wide rear hatch. He grabbed a handhold near the gaping doorway, looking quickly down at the city that he estimated to be around three hundred feet below. He could see people down below, lit by sidewalk lamps, staring up at the dark sky, though not specifically at him.

Jon looked about for the drone and finally spotted it, a dozen feet above and thirty feet away, its rotors keeping it descending at a controlled rate.

"Back about twenty five feet," he called.

The ship and drone approached each other and Jon held on tightly as he leaned out. "Back, back, just a bit more … got it!"

He pulled himself back in gripping the body of the tiny helicopter-like drone. A second after he pulled it in, the little spinning blades suddenly increased in speed and it tugged and turned in his hand. The motor wasn't strong enough to do much, though and Jon easily kept his hold on it.

"All right, close 'er up and take us to the Mountain. Warp seven, Mr. Sulu!"

The door closed back up as they accelerated away, Cameron pushing the ship hard enough that Jon and Cassie stumbled and had to catch themselves. Jon wondered how many G's Cameron was pulling to make them feel the acceleration.

"I'm givin' 'er all she's got, cap'n," Cam called back with a horrendous Scottish accent.

"Cassie, it's all yours," he handed her the drone. "It might not do much good in the large scheme of things, but I'm going to blow a few of these out of the air on our way."

It vaguely offended his opinion of this attack that the attackers would just let them shoot down the incoming missiles or whatever they were.

Cameron was driving hard toward space, and Vanessa seemed to be fascinated with the view as Jon began checking targeting sensors. The targeting "radar" wasn't just radar, but instead a composite of various sensors - some human and some Asgard, and it gave him a "radar" sense of the area they were flying over, giving him a fine view of the scope of the attack.

He realized why they weren't trying to protect the drones better. They didn't need to.

His radar almost looked like it had static.

Hundreds, no, thousands of little red dots blanketed his screen.

It took several seconds to grasp what it meant. So this is what Cassie meant when she said it was too late to start blasting.

'_Dang, but that woman is smart! What did she figure out that she knew about this happening?_'

Jon didn't think he was going to like whatever it was she had realized.

He noted that the dots were more heavily packed around population centers. He could see dense swarms of red dots over areas that he recognized to be Las Vegas and Reno, while the rest of the area around them seemed to be mostly free with only an occasional dot scattered around the mostly empty desert. There were a few small clusters that Jon suspected were smaller cities that he just didn't recognize.

And these were already falling?

He quickly adjusted the display, leaving the basic and more familiar display of the traditional radar to the hologram image to give a 3D view.

Jon jumped in alarm at the new result.

"Cam! Careful flying out there! We're flying right through swarms of these things!"

"Yeah, proximity warnings have come up a few times. This is space, though - even as dense as it might be, there's still lots of, um, space."

Jon tried to calm his heart rate down. He'd flown the X ships several times before he and Jack and split, but he apparently hadn't gotten fully acclimated to the peculiarities of working in space. If this had been in atmo, they would have been jinking left and right like crazy to dodge things.

"Jon, come take a look," Cassie called.

Jon walked over to where Cassie had set the helicopter on a chair to examine it.

"What's up?"

"Long and short, we're almost certainly dealing with the Aschen here, and this is a dispersal system. It has been spraying out a mist the entire time we've had it, or at least it was until I clogged the outlet."

Jon jerked back in alarm.

Cassie gave him a sad smile. "It's too late, we've already been exposed. We were exposed the moment we opened the door to grab it. We might have even been exposed before we arrived at the ship - these were coming down for several minutes. Depending on wind direction and stuff, we might have been exposed while driving along to Pilar Point."

"Anyway, it is a really, _really_ simple dispersal system. Which, makes sense if they made tens of millions to cover the world all at once. How to quickly infect the entire world with something all at once? Well, this is a pretty good method."

His stomach was crawling with the knowledge that whatever it was, they had, but just didn't show it yet. Jon shook his head. That and … the scale of the attack was still boggling his mind.

"They've been planning this for years," he murmured. "The infiltrations, the … the sicknesses that hit the offworld bases were probably tests of some sort. Looking at our reactions and stuff. Do you think this is the same disease?"

Cassie shook her head. Her voice was soft, resigned.

"Probably not the exact same. It's almost certainly based on the same base disease type, but they can alter the disease to make it do pretty much whatever they want - from a minor cold to … to death."

Jon absorbed that for a moment. The entire world. Plague of death.

"And they just delivered … whatever this is to the entire world."

Cassie nodded a very small nod.

"Even if we destroyed every last one that hasn't yet reached the ground, enough has hit that the entire human race will be exposed for all intents and purposes. The SGC, locked-down underground bases, maybe some remote groups are going to be able to avoid it, but the disease they released on the offworld sites was incredibly infectious and able to be passed from person to person by merely breathing out - it didn't even need coughing. There might be a tiny remnant that avoids infection, but that's it. Whatever the Aschen are trying to do - they've just done. They just won with a single strike."

Jon paused for a moment, looking at Cassie. She looked so forlorn that he just wanted to grab her up in his arms and somehow assure her that it would be ok, that he would protect her.

But she didn't really need protection.

"Pretty hopeless?"

Cassie nodded. "This sort of thing is the stuff of biological warfare nightmares. Custom diseases. Extremely infectious. Zero resistance. Widespread dispersal. Every last part of everyone's worst case nightmare and raised to the extreme.

"But even worse because the Aschen can make stuff far nastier than we can dream. By tomorrow, seven billion people will be dead if that's what the Aschen wanted to do and there's … " Tears began to roll down her cheeks. "And there's not a damn thing anyone can do about it," she said, her voice quavering.

Jon caressed her cheek and pulled her face up to meet his own. He knew at least part of what she was feeling - he'd had the same feelings several times over the years in the SGC. Ancient downloads killing him. Ba'al killing him over and over. Daniel dying. Over and over.

He'd had many times when he had given up or been ready to give up.

And for Cassie - this was the second time she had lost a world. Hell, it was even by a disease, just like on Hanka.

But he'd had friends to help him keep going, and when a person had friends like these, there wasn't really much of anything in the universe that was actually hopeless, even if he hadn't been able to imagine a way out.

Cassie needed the encouragement, just as he had.

"I was dying back on Treefort, you were wounded, you had a weapon that didn't help, and the person after you was a super soldier capable of moving faster than you could see and able to crush your skull with two fingers.

"That sounds pretty hopeless to me. You're still here. I'm still here.

"Sam nearly gave up when fighting the Ori - they had the power of Ascended beings at their fingertips, able to twist reality into whatever shape they wanted, and we had nothing. That was hopeless.

"And yet, here we are. Look at me."

Cassie's eyes were on her clenched hands, but just tipped her chin up to meet his eyes.

"Cassie, I know it doesn't look like there's a way to beat this, but we will somehow - we sent the Ori packing so there's no way a bunch of gene-splicing accountants are going to take down Earth.

"You're the smartest, most brilliant woman in the world, and the Aschen are dealing with _exactly_ your expertise. They are so far outclassed that they aren't even in the same league."

Jon grinned at her, seeing a spark of hope beginning to grow again.

"The Asgard are thousands upon thousands of years ahead of us technologically, but you know who was able to solve problems that stumped them? Sam. She was able to turn physics into her bitch and solve problems the Asgard couldn't handle.

"You? You're just as smart as Sam, but your area of expertise is genetics. These wannabe conquerors are coming in here and challenging you exactly where you're the strongest. You're going to kick their asses."

Jon took her hands in his and kissed her fingers.

"I don't know how you're going to do it - I'm just a grunt - but you're gonna turn their genetic weapons into _your_ bitch. The SGC is going to blow them apart with the Odyssey if they dare show up in person, and Cam up there is going to … well, do whatever Cam does."

Cassie giggled and Jon felt a rush of relief. Getting her out of her panic was working. He wasn't a tenth as confident as he hoped he sounded, but the world had been in tight places before and it certainly wasn't hopeless.

"Darn. I had such a good speech going there." Jon raised his voice, "And then Mitchell there had to go and ruin it!"

Cameron threw up a middle finger to Jon.

Cassie laughed a full laugh this time and turned her smile to Jon.

For a moment he couldn't breathe - she absolutely lit up the room with that smile and he couldn't do anything but bask. That smile, so full of life, was the light of his life.

"I love you, Cassie. With all my heart, I love you."

The words popped out without thought.

Cassie's eyes went wide with surprise and Jon realized what he'd just said.

'_That wasn't part of the plan, but … it's true. I love her._'

It was a strange relief to have said it even as fear poked up - he had exposed himself to her entirely.

"Jon, I love you too. Totally and completely."

Cassie leaned in and Jon felt their lips melt together. He poured every ounce of love in his being into the kiss, willing Cassie to somehow realize that she was his entire life, that she had his entire heart and soul in the palm of her hand.

They slowly ended the kiss and opened their eyes. Jon could see the love in her gaze and he prayed that she could see the love in his own.

Cassie finally grinned.

"All right. Let's go kick some Aschen butt."

Jon grinned.

He and Cassie?

'_Look out, Aschen! We're coming for you._'

* * *

**A/N: And ya' know the worst part - most of the "real life" stuff about the physics of attacks from space don't actually make it into the story - they're all just background in my mind. So I've spent days fiddling with ... stuff in my mind.**

**Some days I think I suck at this whole writing stuff. Other days I know it. ;-)**


	49. Blazing Saddles, er, Spaceships

**There are a few spots here where I tried not to get too deep into the physics of stuff. I get annoyed by ships that move at the speed of "plot". So how fast would you need to go to get from Earth up to a geostationary orbit? Well, it's 22,236 miles. Do that in five minutes (like what is shown in the show) and you need to have an _average_ of 266,832 mph. But you need to accelerate AND decelerate. So, crunch the numbers, and their ship needs to be going 533,664 mph by the half way point. From 0 mph to 533,664 mph in 150 seconds.**

**Did the show writers not even _think_ about how nuts that is!? HOLY HANNAH!**

**Also, space fighting where you see the enemy? Pfft. In space-scale, a hundred miles away is like next door, but there's no way anyone could see something smaller than a mountain from a hundred miles away. You couldn't see anything until it's essentially on top of you. So, people "seeing" space ships are obviously using computer-aided viewing of some sort. So yeah, any time someone "sees" another spaceship, just assume it's via a computer display giving a super-zoomed-in view.**

**Like I said for last chapter - a LOT of tweaks, most of which aren't even in the story. It's a frustrating feeling. Hopefully it makes a less boring story, though.**

**So enjoy! (I hope)**

* * *

Their arrival at Cheyenne Mountain was greeted with combination of excitement and uncertainty on what to do with them. The Mountain was on lockdown except for its squadron of F-302s stationed there which was in the air. They weren't allowed to enter, but they had valuable information too. Finally the General's orders came through - a video conference.

Jon had gotten through to the Mountain near the end of their flight and given them warning of what the incoming objects were. They were immediately escorted to a conference room on the surface level for the conference.

General Richards looked at all of them through the screen with a rapidly shifting mix of emotions before starting. Jon could imagine the variety of thoughts that must be warring inside, but the man was a professional soldier and it only took a second to begin.

"Colonel Mitchell, Mr. O'Neill, Miss Frasier, Vanessa. There is a great deal I would like to know but I believe Miss Frasier has the most immediate news. You've acquired a piece of the incoming objects and brought it here, I believe?"

"Yes, Colonel Mitchell was able to open the rear hatch while flying the X-410 and Jon grabbed it.

"It is a helicopter-like drone - very, very simple - simpler even than some remote control toy drones. There is a container of liquid and two atomizers. It sprays the contents of the container out. The pouch holds roughly a pint of liquid."

Jon felt his heart swell just a tiny bit more as Cassie spoke confidently.

"I haven't been able to test the liquid without equipment. I would like to do so as soon as possible. We might be able to figure out what is happening."

General Richards nodded. "Thank you very much. We've gotten reports of what these things are, but you're the first to arrive with one of these for examination. Good work to you all.

"The problem is that the SGC is locked down tight right now. Standard operational orders. Because of the nature of the attack, we are particularly sensitive to exposure to whatever this might be. We can't let you in as you are - you'll need to be in a full biohazard suit and go through decontamination before being let through. We do have a set of chambers and suits. We'll take you to them."

Cassie nodded. "Yes sir."

The general turned his attention to the others.

"Colonel, Jon. Let me catch you up. This is happening worldwide, sort of, but only over the land portions. We estimate there are around a hundred million of these things coming down.

"Unfortunately, the Odyssey is out of commission for the moment. Somehow they must have gotten one of their damned spies on board. Six hours ago, everyone on the ship began falling sick and then unconscious.

"We can remotely access some of the ship's sensors, and give it some basic commands, but that's it. Three hours ago one of our technicians noted the Odyssey's sensors were showing what we now know are these … _things_ coming in from space.

"They began falling over the eastern parts of both North and South America. The wave of them has quickly moved westward and to reach the westward edge of the United States. There is very little fall over the Pacific except for some of the islands like Hawaii, but the Odyssey's sensors show a few more trickling into our atmo all the time, and then another, much larger wave which will arrive in an hour and fall on the eastern parts of Asia and Australia. We estimate the next flood of these things is designed to cover Asia, Europe, and Africa."

"We need the Odyssey back online immediately. Colonel, you'll be taking a group of people up to the Odyssey in the X-410. Jon you're security for them, though we have access to the internal cameras and not one is moving. Apparently even their spy was affected. The people going with you two will be in full biohazard - "

Something happened on the General's side. He nodded to someone off-camera.

"Excuse me, I need to go. Miss Frasier, go ahead with your research. Colonel and Jon, gear up for the Odyssey. Vanessa … "

Jon could see the General's uncertainty in what to say to his daughter.

"I'll assist Cassie," Vanessa filled in.

General Richards nodded. "Thank you."

The video cut off and the four of them stood up along with the two airmen in the room.

Jon grabbed Cassie's hand.

"Hey, we're going to beat this. The solution is out there, we just don't see it yet."

She nodded. "I'll do that. Be careful up there, Jon."

He wanted to kiss her. He wanted to hold her. But things needed done.

"You too," he whispered and turned.

"Come on kid, let's get 'em up to the Odyssey."

Cameron was talking with Vanessa.

"Kid? You're older than him," Jon heard Vanessa say. Cameron mutters something and Jon grinned to himself.

* * *

Jon was given the pick of the base's small, surface level armory, and outfitted himself with a comfortable set of BDUs, armored vest, and a selection of guns. They didn't have any of his favorites, just the standard USAF commonly issued guns, but they'd have to do. He signed out a little M11 pistol and was about to grab an M16 when he saw a shotgun racked at the far end.

"Sarg, what you got as far as ammo for the M590?"

There was only the single shotgun in the entire armory, as far as he could tell, and he wouldn't have been surprised to find out it was only there by accident and they didn't have any ammo for it.

"Enough of every size shot for a platoon, including piles of fucking birdshot. Some hotshot captain decided to test its 'efficacy in base defense' before …."

Jon tuned the sergeant out - the story of accidents and silly decisions leaving leftover odds and ends in the armory was an old, old story. In this case it was good for him.

"Gimme a hundred shells of double-oh in a wrap, and three hundred rounds of 9mm hollow-point for the M11."

The sergeant looked uncomfortable and about to object, so Jon tried to set his mind at ease.

"You've got the permission from the General himself, and if I wind up shooting at anyone it'll be classified as a Gate operation. I'll in a spaceship, and I _really_ don't want to breath vacuum because a bullet penetrates the wrong spot."

"Yes, sir," the sergeant replied and began filling Jon's request.

Jon understood, even agreed with, the rationale for the conventions that limited the types of ammunition used in battles on Earth, but when you dealt with Jaffa, Goa'uld, and the Kull Warriors he'd heard of, you needed as much stopping power as possible. The description of the Aschen super soldier Cassie had dealt with made Jon pretty sure that if he did wind up fighting with one of them, he would want to make sure they went down when shot.

He thought again of the insane speed Cassie had described.

"You know what," he said to the sergeant bringing the boxes of ammo to the desk, "I'll take an M4 too, with … three hundred rounds of hollow-point for it."

"You gonna carry all that at once?"

Thoughts of the Aschen super-soldiers running along ship halls ran through Jon's mind.

"Yeah. And gimme whatever you have in grenades. I didn't see any out, but I'm really gonna want some if this turns sour."

The sergeant frowned but finally shrugged a little. Knowing AMMO people like he did, he was pretty sure the sergeant had a few in stock in back somewhere, "just in case". Well this was the case.

"Got a few frags, but that's it," the sergeant confirmed Jon's suspicion.

"Any C4?"

Apparently this was beyond the small, surface armory's collection, as the sergeant just snorted.

Jon gave a lopsided grin. "Had to check. Having C4 saved my bacon more often than I can remember."

The sergeant considered Jon for a moment and walked back into the storage locker without a word, returning a moment later with several packages of det cord.

"Closest I can come."

Jon grinned. "Sarg, if we make it through this alive, I'll buy you an entire night of beers!"

"You put all these to good use, and I'll want the story."

"You got it," Jon said with a grin.

* * *

Jon still had to wait for the people they were taking up to finish getting suited up. He was taking his chances with only a face mask. He had been one of the few people who hadn't gone down with the bug released back on Treefort, so he was hopeful that he wouldn't be hit by whatever it was that had been released on the Odyssey.

And only God knew what had been released from the millions of drones falling all over. He had certainly been exposed to that. Reports from the eastern side of the continent had millions of people getting sick - no confirmed reports of deaths, but millions of people were suffering from cramps, nausea, dizziness and more.

The entire country was in a panic with a mass exodus from cities creating instant traffic jams. The president had made an announcement forty minutes ago, not long after they had been released from the meeting with the General. Jon wondered if it was the President that had pulled General Richards away. Might have been Jack, too. He hadn't heard the address, but rumor had it that the President had said very little beyond the fact that he was declaring a state of martial law until the mystery was solved. It was bringing back alarms of the Prior plague, though theoretically no one out in the public knew about the true source of that plague.

It was a little frustrating being out of the loop, but on the other hand there wasn't anything he could do about the disease. If it had started coming down on the East Coast an hour or two before it hit the West Coast, then if the East Coast was getting hit with sickness now, in an hour or two they should see the sickness hitting here too.

He was there for shipboard security. The X-410 could take up enough people to start operating the Odyssey at reduced capability along with a few doctors to work on helping the people onboard the ship. They could do their jobs with the bulky suits, but Jon couldn't.

Jon was arranging his weapons, backpack filled with munitions, and air filter in the ship while Cam was going over his approach to the Odyssey when he heard the comm come on.

"_SGC to X-ray 410. Come in._"

"X-ray 410 here. Go ahead," Cameron replied.

"_Colonel, unknown, presumed hostile ships appeared and are approaching Earth and the Odyssey. Most of your people are suited up and heading your way. Highest speed to get to the Odyssey first. Over._"

"Roger. Can I be patched into location of bogeys? Over."

"_Standby._"

Jon had come up to the front of the shuttle, next to Mitchell, while the message had come in.

"This is gonna be fun. How long to get to the Odyssey?"

Mitchell was turning on systems on the ship, and hums began to fill the ship as the systems began running.

"Five minutes with passengers. Of course, half of the trip is decelerating, and we can't hit max acceleration in atmo. If I were racing out past it in vacuum, it would be just over two minutes. Once we get out of the air, we'll be pulling over a hundred seventy G's. It'll feel like less than two!"

Jon could hear the thrill in Cameron's voice and he grinned at the idea of pulling a hundred and seventy gravities of acceleration.

"Takes a bit for the inertial dampening to kick in if you change directions, but straight acceleration gets its G's cut way back. Roughly a factor of a hundred. Changing directions only cuts G's by a factor of ten for the first two seconds and then comes back to full dampening."

Jon was nearly drooling at the ship's abilities. They had definitely made some serious improvements over the old X-301 and X-302 models. This thing would blow the Goa'uld death gliders into scrap!

"That'll give you a hundred G's in a dogfight," Jon exclaimed. "Damn! Will it have my babies? I could literally fly circles around a death glider! Not that it could catch this beauty in the first place."

Jon had tended to continue Jack's habit of hiding his intelligence, but this science was about flying! That made it _interesting_ science in Jon's opinion.

"Shit," Mitchell suddenly said.

Jon saw what had caught the man's attention. The SGC had gotten the Odyssey sensors patched through. The unknown ships were almost on top of the Odyssey and there were hundreds of them. Numbers appeared next to the ships on the holodisplay, giving more information on the images, and Jon swore under his breath. Mass numbers suggested several of them were close to the Odyssey's size and one was nearly the size of a Goa'uld mothership.

A handful of green lights were converging toward the wide swath of red icons, Earth's F-302 fighters.

"_X-ray 410. You have the data stream from Odyssey's tactical scanners._"

"Roger. Permission to engage the ships."

"_Negative. Wait for your passengers. Priority remains to access the Odyssey and regain control._"

Jon looked out the back of the X-410 to see a score of people in white biohazard suits clumsily running across the airfield toward them.

"They'll be here in thirty seconds," Jon whispered to Mitchell as the SGC continued to give directions.

" _\- only if fired upon. Highest priority is to restore the Odyssey to operational state. Get your people to the Odyssey. Over._"

"Roger. People arriving now. Leaving ASAP. Over."

"_Godspeed X-ray._"

The first several figures in suits were clumping up the ramp. Jon went to guide them to places to lock in.

"Into the side rooms! Prepare for hard acceleration! Go! Go," Jon yelled. He continued to guide them around. Several got chairs and the beds all with acceleration straps available, but the ship was intended for only up to eight people, and Jon's quick count gave him twenty four people in gear. Cameron and he made it twenty six.

'_No dogfights, please, no dogfights,_' Jon prayed.

"Go, Cameron, go," Jon yelled as the last of the people stumbled up the ramp. The alarms sounded and the ramp began to close even as the ground flew away beneath them. Jon grew momentarily disoriented as he looked out the closing back hatch - the lack of feeling of acceleration and the artificial gravity which made it feel like they were standing normally even as the view out the closing hatch showed they must be vertical to the Earth was throwing his sense of orientation off.

He turned back to the front and ran forward, the disorientation fading as he turned away from the odd view below/sideways out the hatch. He jumped into his seat as the acceleration began to make itself felt. The air in front of the shuttle was burning making them look like a falling meteor in reverse.

"This is your captain, Cameron Mitchell, thank you for flying with SGC airlines. I'm afraid we're all out of snacks on this flight, so y'all have to suck it up," Cameron called over the speakers once the alarms shut off. "We'll be going through a bit of turbulence, so make sure your shit is latched in."

"Awe hell."

Jon looked over at the holodisplay still showing the Odyssey's tactical scanners.

The green icons of the F-302 fighters were jiggling around as scores of tiny dots spewed out of the largest red dot.

"Fighters," Cameron said.

He keyed the speaker. "The turbulence could be more like a hurricane. We're going to be arriving hot. Get yourselves locked in as best you can. My apologies in advance."

The sky around them had faded to black and the acceleration suddenly cranked up. Jon could see their own dot on the Odyssey's scanners streaking up from Earth. He was very happy to see that they seemed to be moving much faster than anything else on the display. He hoped that meant they had a big edge on their attackers.

"_X-ray 410, this is SGC. Ships are confirmed hostile._"

"No shit, Sherlock," Jon muttered.

"_Several ships are attempting to board the Odyssey. We have been able to lock the ship down, but they are cutting their way in. We will open fighter bay door three for you as you approach._"

"Roger," Cameron replied. "Gimme your best estimates on hostile ships' demonstrated capabilities."

"_Laser weapons on fighters. Missiles are big, faster than F-302s, but our ECM smokes 'em. Hostile ECM is minimal and they have trouble seeing our guys until close up. Enemy fighters … um, seem to have marginally less speed and maneuverability. Uh, crap._"

Jon could only imagine the frantic activity going on. The Odyssey's tactical scanner was currently scaled for larger scales than fighter-range combat, but Jon could see there must be a million things happening at once.

Missiles showed momentarily on the display, flashing out by the hundreds at a time versus the fifty green icons that represented the F-302s. Explosions were displayed by brief purple flashes. Numbers flashed and grew next to the various ships as more information was gathered by the systems - after a minute it was becoming almost unusable to Jon's eyes.

He knew that normally there were whole teams of people working the sensors from the Odyssey, but accessing them remotely with whatever functionality the SGC was able to accomplish was apparently not enough to keep up with the flood of data.

The first of the green lights blinked out and Jon winced. A pilot had died there, in the midst of fire and fury one of his allies was no more.

It was hard to keep track of so many red dots as were showed by the enemy fighters, but Jon did see them disappear here and there. It looked like Earth's fighters were distinctly superior, but they were also outnumbered five to one in fighters and five to one again in larger ships.

"_Um, larger ships have plasma weapons. All ships have shields. Confirmed. All hostile ships have shields._"

Jon was pressed back in his seat with somewhere around two and a half to three gravities he guessed. Every few seconds the ship would jerk in a random direction. Jon recognized it as a flack-avoidance technique. If they had proceeded on a perfectly straight path, the hostiles could just shoot a bunch of bullets in front of them and let them run into the objects at high speeds.

"Going into reverse acceleration," Cameron announced. The sense of acceleration suddenly disappeared for a second and the stars spun crazily until the Earth was now in their forward view, and then the acceleration reappeared, driving Jon back into his seat.

Several thumps and bangs sounded from behind Jon, as one of the people must have been jerked loose. Muffled cries reached his ears, but there was nothing they could do to help at the moment.

Jon watched the display suddenly clear out all the text information next to the dots and breathed out a sigh of thanks to whatever technician had cleared that out. Two more green icons disappeared along with a half dozen enemy fighter icons as a massive explosion was indicated on the screen. Jon saw the flash of white light reflected on their ship's window even though the explosion was several thousand miles away.

"Nukes, ya' think," Jon suggested to Cameron.

Cameron nodded. "Nah, antimattter - they make a lot more light than nukes."

Jon was impressed. "Where the hell did you get to compare nukes and antimatter explosions?"

"Can't do weapons testing on Earth, so we've done it in other systems." A brief grin flickered over Cameron's face and Jon decided he would try to get to some of those testings.

"_Sensors show multiple bogeys approaching you,_" the radio squawked.

"I see 'em, SGC, thanks though."

Cameron flicked the speakers on. "Ladies and gentlemen, the hurricane is about to hit. Hold on tight." He flicked the speakers off.

"Jon, you've got weapons."

Jon's hands reached forward, feeling horribly heavy in the deceleration, to grasp the firing stick as a hologram appeared before him and wrapping around to cover most of his view, giving him a full sphere view compressed into an area that he could see all at once. Five fighter icons grew as they raced for an interception path.

Jon was thoroughly unimpressed by the incoming flight pattern. All five of the incoming fighters were in an X formation, coming straight in. Bizarre. He filed the thought away for future reference.

A flood of missiles erupted from them, each fighter sending out four missiles that accelerated hard toward them, curving and adjusting slightly to orient themselves to cross their path.

'_Gives them good firing abilities, but still …. with a formation like that I'm gonna rip them apart._'

Several symbols flashed across his view before disappearing and Cameron jerked their ship into evasive maneuvers.

"ECM," Cameron groaned as four G's slammed Jon down into his seat.

The electronic counter-measures seemed to work as all four missiles continued a straight path, not shifting to follow their ship's new course.

"Remember our passengers," Jon grunted.

"Yeah," was all Cameron could get out.

Jon saw the fighters adjust a second later to follow the ship's new path.

'_Yeah, the ships probably have better sensors than the missiles. Good thing they don't have the missiles linked back to the ship sensors._'

Jon wondered how good their sensors were.

He triggered the rail guns to begin firing, predicting where the fighters would be, and a tiny vibration could be felt as the guns began spewing out the tiny pellets at a hundred thousand miles per hour. A tiny line traced out the path of the bullets and Jon arrowed it in on the middle target of the X formation. It still took a couple seconds for the speeding beads to reach the incoming fighters, which gave them plenty of time to dodge if their sensors saw the incoming beads.

They didn't dodge.

His line of fire intersected the center fighter's icon and a fraction of a second later the icon jerked to dodge, but their formation limited their maneuverability and Jon had predicted where it would try to dodge and had already guided his line of fire to be hitting that area. The shields must have shrugged of hundreds, if not thousands of bullets, but finally the shields went down from the impact of the tiny bullets impacting at a combined speed of nearly half a million miles per hour.

It exploded in an actinic burst of light. The other four had already started to veer off, but with that formation there were limited directions they could go and Jon was already filling one of those paths with plasma blasts. The blasts had been missing the fighters before, but now the fighter had no choice but to try to fly through the plasma blasts.

A second ship took a blast of plasma and jerked, but not quickly enough and Jon whooped as the second ball of plasma hit the ship and pierced the shields, sending up a small explosion. The fighter wasn't fully destroyed, but it was out of action.

"Sixty seconds to arrival at the Odyssey."

Jon had noted the Odyssey as an icon they were approaching "behind" their ship.

Jon was slammed side to side repeatedly as Cameron jerked the ship back and forth in continued random jolts, which were becoming shorter and shorter as they neared their target.

Jon was wondering when the enemy would fire when suddenly his display flashed bright red lines from the remaining three enemy fighters.

'_Laser or something. Short range. Light speed. No warning._'

The thoughts flew through his mind, considering their responses. Cameron's was probably best - continue doing random evasive maneuvers.

"_Sensors show the boarders have breached the hull of the Odyssey,_" the comm broke in. "_Opening the bay three doors now._"

That gave Jon an idea. They were getting close to the Odyssey. Presumably the attacking fighters didn't want to hit the Odyssey, so … that constrained their vectors of attack … and

Jon stopped firing at the attacking ships for a second, two seconds, three, four. Cameron's evasive maneuvers were working so far - hitting a target that was randomly moving from what was still miles and miles away wasn't easy, especially while dodging the trails of plasma and railgun pellets. If the enemy fighters didn't need to dodge any more, they could ….

Yes! Two of them were settling into better attack vectors, and there were only a couple of available vectors that could work with the Odyssey growing behind them.

Jon already had his weapons lined up there and a fraction of a second before the enemy fighters reached those points, Jon opened up with his weapons on the ships, for one of them he merely handed it off to the computer to do automatic tracking and firing, but with the other two he targeted where he knew they must be going instead of targeting where they were at the moment.

Two tiny blue-white suns lit the sky as the two fighters flew right into the combined fire of the railguns and plasma blasts, instantly overloading their shields.

The remaining fighter frantically pulled out, but Jon was able to focus all his weapons on it. He triggered the computer to use all but one of the ship's weapons to do bracketing on the weapon he kept for himself. He quickly zeroed in on the fleeing fighter. It frantically jerked side to side, trying to avoid Jon's shots, but the other five weapons were surrounding Jon's own shots.

The first shot to hit the fighter was a stream of pellets from a railgun. The fighter jerked back almost into Jon's stream of fire before barely dodging it with impressively fast reflexes. That slid it through a spray of bracketing plasma fire from another bracketing weapon. Jon's railgun managed to rake across it again, and the ship stopped jerking as a small explosion burst from the rear.

Jon tapped for convergence and the bracketing shots zoomed in, centering on his own stream of fire. The final fighter exploded in a burst of light and plasma.

Jon checked quickly for any more fighters approaching.

None.

He swung his targeting around and began spraying one of the ships that was latched onto the Odyssey with everything his own ship had to offer.

It's shape was familiar, the same design as the ship he had seen long ago when the Aschen had tried to kidnap he and his team. It's shields, normally invisible, began to corruscate with blue and green sheets of light as the plasma and railguns pounded it.

For several long seconds, the larger ship's shield held back the torrent of impacts and energy raining down on it, but suddenly the blue and green lights that had been cascading around the Aschen ship flashed a final bright burst of light and gave way.

The thousands of railgun pellets and nearly constant stream of plasma balls hit the hull of the Aschen ship. Jon wouldn't have been able to make out details at this distance, but the holodisplay had zoomed in and showed the top of the Aschen ship suddenly explode outward.

He walked his fire along the ship's length for another several seconds. Whatever the hull material was, Jon acknowledged it was able to take a pounding before finally giving way, but give way it did.

And then the guns cut off as Jon's ship raced up next to the Odyssey, hiding the alien ship from Jon's view.

He slapped the display off and ripped at the straps holding him into his acceleration chair. The remaining acceleration was almost gone, and Jon was able to push out from his chair and make his way to grab his backpack and weapons from the locker where he had stowed them. Even as he was pulling the backpack out he was yelling to the others.

"Wounded, stay here on the ship and bug out back to the Mountain if things go too sideways. Cam, set it up so the ship can be sent on autopilot back to the Mountain as a last resort. The rest of you," he tossed a facemask on the chair next to Cameron. He could see the hanger door open and their ship sliding in far too quickly for comfort, but he had to trust Cameron's piloting skills.

"The rest of you follow with me and Cam. We're making for the bridge and we're going to lock down from there! Stay behind me!"

He felt a heavy bump as the ship skidded into the bay and the rear hatch began opening up.

Cameron came up beside him, snugging his mask into place.

**"****Let's go!"**


	50. A Sudden End

**Whew! Fifty chapters! I had a vague idea of somewhere between five and ten chapters when I started this. With fifty chapters and more to come, it is occurring to me that I might need to tighten up my writing a bit. It's a bit late for that realization to reach me, I realize. Hmmm.**

**Well, nothing to do about it now! Charge!**

* * *

Jon didn't like the situation at all. He and Cameron were the only two ready for combat against an unknown number of boarders, and he hadn't come prepped for a full-blown assault situation. Though as he ran over his arsenal, it wasn't as bad as it could have been. There were advantages to expecting the worst - he just hadn't expected _this_ worst. Two wasn't enough to defend unless they had a fortress; fortunately the ship's bridge provided just such a fortress with blast doors that could withstand almost anything short of a nuke and bulkheads just as strong. Until they got there, though, they'd need to move and attack quickly, keeping the enemy forces off-balance and unable to use their superior numbers. Two could take on a hundred as long as it was little bits at a time.

He started making sure Cam knew what they would be facing.

"They used zat-like weapons when I met them, but I don't know if that was typical. You got the briefing from Cassie's experience, so we've got that to deal with.

"We've got to drive for the bridge. We know the layout, they don't. If we get there first, we lock down and control the ship from there."

Cameron nodded and pulled out a zat, the weapon giving off a sharp whine as it powered up. Jon raised his eyebrows in surprise as alien tech outside the mountain was all but banned and they hadn't been allowed in to get one. Cameron gave a crooked grin and shrugged.

"All right," Jon spoke up to the rest of the people gathered behind he and Cameron, his voice muffled by the mask. "You all know the layout if you happen to get separated. We're taking the most direct route there - speed is going to be our friend. Anyone falls, grab 'em up and drag 'em along. Let's go."

Jon sprinted across the fighter bay toward the doorway with Cameron following twenty feet behind with most of the bulkily clothed ship personnel. Two people had to stay in the X-410 because of injuries and one of the doctors was gathering the unconscious servicemen who were in the fighter bay.

The door swooshed open at his approach and Jon and Cameron rolled around the edge, weapons at the ready.

All clear.

He quickly stepped back inside the bay and ran through the door's locking steps so it would be locked when it closed behind them. It wouldn't be a perfect stop, but it would be a deterrent and give the people left inside a minute to get away.

"_Follow_," he signed and rolled around the edge, M4 held to his shoulder. The fighter hangers were situated toward the back of the Odyssey, and they had well over half the huge ship's length to cover. He had seen three Aschen ships attached to the Odyssey, and though he had managed to destroy one of them, it could have been empty with its contingent already on board. They could have anywhere between fifty and a couple hundred enemy onboard depending on how tightly packed the ships had been.

The hallway to the first hatch was clear and the door closed. Emergency lights silently flashed in the hallway as he ran down the hall. On reaching the hatch he listened to the door, but no sounds were evident - he wished he had a few recon tools, but shrugged. The doors were designed to be able to withstand depressurization, and Jon wasn't entirely confident that he would have been able to hear anyone on the other side. He'd make do like always.

He hit the button to unlock the door and winced at the clunk it gave. He gripped his weapon tightly to his shoulder and nodded to Cameron. He hit the button and rolled around to the left as Cameron rolled around to the right.

Cameron's zat whined as it fired and Jon spun from his clear section of hallway and crouched. A shout and a blue ray responded to Cameron's shot and Jon fired his own weapon in a burst by instinct at the soldiers down the hallway.

Cameron's zat whined again and a second soldier dropped to the deck and the remaining three pulled back around a corner.

Jon cursed. The soldiers had body shields and his bullets had been stopped short.

He pulled a grenade from his belt and yanked the pin.

One.

Cameron fired two more shots down the hall when one of the soldiers poked his own weapon around the corner. He could hear shouts from their direction.

Two.

One of them poked his weapon around the edge and fired blindly down the hall. The blue beam hit the ceiling just over Jon's head. Cameron's zat zinged out two more shots, the second hitting the Aschen's gun making the soldier holding it drop it with a yelp.

Three.

Jon flung the grenade down the hall with a practiced lob, bouncing it off a wall, to take the corner. He followed it up with a burst, sending bullets to ricochet around the corner. He didn't know if the shield covered their whole body or not, but zinging bits of metal should make them flinch by reflex.

"Cam, you have rear to next doorway! Follow me this - "

The blast of the grenade drowned out the rest of his sentence, but he was already moving and the suited crewmen followed behind. Cameron was sprinting the other way toward the explosion.

Jon wasn't as certain as Cameron about catching the soldiers down there before they could react - he had considered it - but apparently Cameron was. That was fine in this situation.

Jon ran the other way and followed the hallway as it went around several corners, the compact spaces of the ship guiding the hallway through a veritable maze of twists and turns. He heard a few gunshots behind him but didn't slow down. Several crewmen were lying down in the hallways, but they left them where they were. Haste was the priority.

As he reached the next doorway he glanced back to see Cameron catch up.

"Their shields blocked the shrap, but they were still dazed from the blast. Zatted 'em. Did a quick experiment on one - shot him to test the shield. It worked until I got the gun to within about two feet, then the shield didn't stop a bullet."

Jon nodded. That was a very, very good thing to know. He hated that Area 51 was so close-lipped about alien tech even to cleared people - that would have been a very good thing to have known before now.

He checked his watch. He and Cam still had somewhere between fifteen minutes and an hour before they would start coming down with symptoms of whatever was released on Earth, if they were going to get sick. They didn't know when the agent had been released through the ship, so they didn't know how long it needed to take people out or whether their masks would keep them from getting infected. Either way, time to move.

"All right, same thing with this hatch. I've got left, you've got right. When it's clear, we head left to the bridge's hatch. It's the only hatch to the bridge, so if they've made it this far, we might meet them in the hallway."

"All clear," Cameron replied and the following, suited crewmen nodded their agreement.

Jon and Cameron rolled around the edges of the doorway as it opened, finding the hallway empty.

Jon breathed out a sigh of relief. There were a few other hallways that intersected on the way to the bridge, but this was the main hallway. If they weren't here yet, then he would be able to get there first for sure.

Jon waved them forward and took off at a careful jog, stopping at each intersection to check both directions before continuing.

He and the others reached the bridge doors without incident and found them locked.

"Who can open the door," Jon called and one of the suited crewmen came forward.

"I can," he said with his muffled voice. "I've got command access to - "

"Good. Do it," Jon said, cutting him off.

The man swiped a badge and began putting in several strings of numbers into the control panel next to the door.

Jon turned to face back down the hall with Cameron.

"Looks like we made it, these guys will be enough to run the Odyssey and blow apart those ships out there. All we'll need to worry about is - "

The hiss of doors signalled that the doors to the bridge were opened. Jon and Cameron began to back up toward the open doors, following the press of suited crewmen.

The zap and crack sound of an energy beam was their first warning. Unexpectedly the sound came from behind them.

Jon spun and dropped in a smooth motion. The mass of white-suited people blocked his sight, but the muffled yells of alarm and the crewmen's recoil from the bridge told Jon what must be happening.

Jon stood and saw the flicker of blue beams of energy hitting the crewmen, dropping them like puppets with their strings cut. Already a dozen were lying on the ground and Jon could see at least a dozen Aschen soldiers inside the bridge firing out through the hatchway.

"Close it!"

Even as he yelled, he was running forward toward the hatchway, pushing past a couple of suited crewmen who were trying to run away from the bridge, He leaped over more fallen crewmen. A beam flickered past him, close enough to feel his hair stand up from the electric charge. With a final lunge he reached forward and flipped up the cover for the emergency close and slammed the button.

The doors slid shut and Jon pulled himself up.

He turned around about to yell to Cameron when the words died in his throat.

Cameron and the rest of the crewmen were lying on the ground and a dozen Aschen soldiers were pointing their weapons at him from the far end of the hallway.

It had been a trap. It suddenly all dawned on him. They must have already known the layout of the ship and made straight for the bridge. His path through the ship had been kept clear until they got to the bridge. Station troops out of sight along a side hallway and have them snap the trap shut as soon as they made it to the bridge and the waiting ambush.

A satisfied smile was on the face of the lead Aschen soldier, but Jon noticed there were three soldiers lying on the ground. Cam was fast, especially considering he had been caught by surprise.

"Nice try," the Aschen leader said.

His blue beam caught Jon in the chest.

Jon groaned in pain, but it lasted only for a second before his legs collapsed and he fell into darkness.

* * *

**A/N: Ahhh. This is getting back to my comfort zone - leaving things on a cliffhanger. Time to chill. Maybe I'll take a break for a few months. My muse is leaving me. I'm no longer inspired for this story. I think I'll leave it here.  
**

**Goodbye all! Thanks for reading!**

**;-)**


	51. Hope This Works!

**Wow, I'm never going to joke about something like that again! Seriously, I had this chapter 3/4 done when I posted the previous chapter!**

**I was just joking about losing my muse or taking a break!**

**And then I spent several days helping friends move, work went crazy, the chapter needed extra care for being a bit technical, then I changed jobs, and then I had a baby. Well, I didn't, but my wife did.**

**And with all that, progress on the chapter came in tiny little pieces carved out of late evenings, and with days passing between writing spurts, I spent half my writing time correcting little errors I made with things written four days and four sentences earlier.**

**My apologies, most sincere, for the great delay in here. I also apologize for the errors that I'm certain are in here somewhere. It's been edited too many times over too long a time for there not to be errors.**

* * *

Cassie watched the … "virus" for lack of a better word. The thing was far closer to a molecular machine than a traditional virus. It was stripped down - a barely sufficient protein coat, but with an RNA genome that was out of this world.

'_Literally_', Cassie snorted to herself.

She put a sample of blood into the infectious disease case and watched on the microscope's screen as the blood cells and the tiny viruses met. The microscope didn't have the power to see the fine details, but the little viruses were still blurrily visible, and she could see as they latched onto the blood cells and injected their payload far faster than any virus she had ever seen before.

She kept an eye on the clock and the blood cells. The cell began to leak viruses which began to spread. Twelve minutes.

Impossible. Completely impossible. And yet obviously not.

"Gotcha, ya little bastard!"

Cassie looked over to Vanessa. The woman's bulky suit didn't hide the excitement.

"I've gotten the genome extracted! It's huge for a virus. Almost nothing is familiar, though. No clue what it does."

"Results on the East Coast suggests it makes people extremely nauseous and dizzy," one of the doctors in the room said. "Standard anti-viral techniques don't seem to do much."

There were four other doctors in the tiny lab with them, but none of them were geneticists, virologists, or immunologists. Cassie had quickly realized that she and Vanessa, even though they weren't doctors, were the local experts on genetics and viruses.

"I'm not surprise," Cassie replied, looking at Vanessa's screen. "The coating on this isn't even remotely close to typical viruses - it serves the same purpose, I guess, but it's wildly different. I would guess that our bodies won't even recognize it as foreign."

One of the doctors looked over at Cassie with a puzzled expression. "If it's that foreign, how on earth does it infect cells? Don't viruses trick cells into letting them inject their genetic materials? If they can't be recognized as even foreign objects, then how?"

Cassie shrugged. "I don't know with a hundred percent certainty, but," she paused and pulled Vanessa's monitor around for the others to see. "This part here, looks to me like the pin of a complex virus. The rest of this looks like a simple helical capsid with an envelope, a really weird one, but an envelope. It doesn't even have extensions. I wouldn't have thought it could infect anything, but obviously it does. So, if it doesn't trick a cell into letting it in, it must force its way in."

"Oh …," Vanessa sighed. "If so, that's … that's not good."

"Yeah," Cassie agreed. "No resistance. No antibodies. Nothing."

She could feel the depression coming back over her. She hadn't been kidding when she'd spoken to Jon about this sort of thing being a virologist's or immunologist's worst nightmare. She had gotten up close and personal with far more diseases than she wanted to think about and it sometimes amazed her that the human race was still alive with all the horrendously fiendish diseases out there.

But humans had evolved with viruses, and the two had a non-extinction balance in their ongoing war. However, she knew what a tiny little bump it would take to have a virus pop up that didn't play by the rules, and result in millions or billions dead.

In this case, nature hadn't done it - it had been specifically designed to bypass everything a human body could do to protect itself.

The phone on the wall rang and one of doctors answered it. Cassie and Vanessa went back to examining the virus's structure as the woman talked on the phone. They'd been at this for just over an hour so far and she was starting to fade, she could tell. They'd taken off from Stanford late in the evening, and now she was encased in this biohazard suit and it was exhausting. She wondered if Jon had left with the crew for the Odyssey yet. Here in the lab she felt completely cut off from the rest of the world.

She shook her head to clear her wandering mind.

"So, the coating on this thing is pretty skimpy - a thin coating won't stand up to much abuse, right?"

Vanessa considered it. "Well, it was released in the air, so it can't be all that delicate."

"Ok, so it's not delicate, and it's funky as all get out for an envelope. So what's it for?"

Vanessa weaved a little.

"Uh, Cassie. I'm - I'm feeling a bit dizzy. I think I'm … I'm beginning to show … symptoms.

"Vanessa's going down! Help me get her to iso!"

Cassie grabbed Vanessa as the woman staggered. Two of the other doctors ran over and helped to support Vanessa as they carried her out the lab's door. Two nurses were waiting outside with a cart.

Cassie stepped back as they put Vanessa's suited form on the rolling bed and began pushing her down the hallway. She was on her own, now.

"Don't worry, Cassie, they'll take good care of her. The disease isn't fatal."

The doctor gestured and Cassie went back in.

'_Right. Focus on beating this thing. How the hell do we beat it?_'

The doctor who had started talking on the phone before Vanessa had collapsed was still talking, but as they came in said a last "yes sir" and hung up.

"That was General Richards," the doctor looked at Cassie. "He's the commander of the Alpha site, but got trapped here when the quarantine hit. He's helping General Landry."

The doctor continued when Cassie nodded. "The Aschen have contacted Earth. They did a broadcast to just about every radio and television channel. They're demanding Earth surrender or they'll let the plague continue. They're sending down forces right now. Leaders and their families who surrender will be cured, personally, and their people will be inoculated against the deadly second phase of the plague. The dizziness and nausea will last for three days, and then they said the infected will die."

Cassie closed her eyes in anguish as the other doctors gasped in shock. Jon had gone up, but if the Aschen were sending down troops, then Jon was gone. Probably gone. Perhaps captured. The Odyssey wasn't going to help. It was impossible to stop - they'd already done the infection, so the only way for Earth to survive would be to surrender.

"... not surrendering. Aschen troops aren't going to land until we do. We've got twenty-four hours to figure out how to beat this. It's not just us, though. Two other clinics are working on this too."

Cassie caught the last of the doctor's words.

Aschen troops would …

Something about that struck her oddly. The Aschen weren't just wiping out Earth. They were conquering. They were occupying. They … weren't ... being infected!

A burst of excitement gave her energy.

"So what about the Aschen? Presumably their people aren't going to be infected, right?"

One of the doctors looked at her with a puzzled expression. "Probably not, but we don't know how they avoid being infected. There's obviously a way, but we don't have any Aschen here. They all suicide."

Cassie grinned. "We don't need a person. I just watched the virus infect human blood cells. We have Aschen blood samples, both doppelganger spies and some samples from Aschen back on Treefort."

One of the doctors grabbed a phone and started requesting some Aschen blood samples be sent in.

Ten minutes later Cassie looked on in surprise.

"It - it infects Aschen too. It … that makes no sense," she muttered.

The microscope's screen showed the viruses touch the Aschen cells and inject themselves.

Cassie frowned and glared at the screen as if offended by the results. The tiny droplet of virus-filled fluid had been touched down on the slide next to the blood and they'd zoomed in on the border between the two as the fluids slowly mingled, inexorably spreading the virus.

Cassie continued glaring at the screen - the viruses weren't supposed to lock onto the Aschen cells! The Aschen should be immune, so the disease shouldn't have affected their cells.

"It was a good thought, Cassie," one of the doctors said. "But, they must have some separate sort of defense - maybe inoculation shots like what they're offering to leaders here."

Cassie sighed. "I guess so."

'_Damn! I was so sure! There's no way I would trust inoculation practices against a disease like this. Maybe their immunization methods really are _that _reliable. Damn. Another showing of how much more advanced they are in this area._'

The doctors went back to their projects and Cassie went back to examining the viruses she and Vanessa had been studying. She glanced at the the screen and saw the cells pumping out more copies of the virus.

She sighed and turned.

'_Well, a null result is technically still progress. You'll still beat this, Cassie._'

Nearly an hour later Cassie went to rub her eyes, but her gloved hands smacked her suit's visor. She sighed and blinked several times, stretching her back. Turning her head around she caught sight of the sample of virus and Aschen blood still showing on the screen.

Cassie froze.

Not a virus was to be seen and the cells were no longer pumping out more viruses.

Cassie stepped over and began scanning the microscope back and forth on the slide. No viruses anywhere, not even over on the side of the slide where the droplet of virus-laden liquid had been placed. Nothing.

Cassie switched her focus to the computer and pulled up the recording of the microscope's time. She quickly scanned through the hour of video to where there were still viruses visible and began playing the video.

Some of the cells were still creating more viruses, but others were now exuding a liquid. Cassie watched in fascination as the liquid made the viruses almost explode on contact - their envelopes unraveling in the blink of an eye, leaving the inner contents of the virus to unravel without their protective coating.

"Oh … that's, that's genius," she murmured to herself.

Her thoughts whirled. There must be some difference between human and Aschen DNA that the virus reacted differently with. With human cells the virus behaved like normal viruses, but with Aschen cells, they produced some sort of liquid that killed the virus. No, that wasn't quite right - it spewed viruses out for a little bit, but then the cells began letting loose some chemical that destroyed the virus. She glanced at the clock on the video as she scanned through.

'_The liquid began being emitted around forty minutes. So they spread the disease, for a while before making themselves immune! Infect others, protect self, all in one!_'

"I've got it," she called to the others. Her excitement brought them running and she quickly explained what she had discovered.

"Yeah, but imagine the distribution issue we're going to face," one of the doctors said. "Depending on what it is, it might be something we'd have to administer via IV or at least shots. Creating seven billion doses of it would be only the first complication."

Cassie frowned. She knew this wasn't a total solution, but it was a start. "We might be able to distribute it to at least people who can fight back."

"Sorry. You're right. It's a step in the right direction. I'll start working to figure out what that fluid is. Hopefully it's something we can make easily."

Cassie sighed. It seemed she wasn't the only one who was having trouble seeing a way to win this.

The doctors all began working on generating enough of the liquid to begin examining it, and Cassie went back to Vanessa's research. The thing was definitely built off a virus structure's blueprint, but it was just as certainly nothing that had evolved on Earth - there was a deep homology among Earth-based structures but in this thing, the molecule handedness changed, fundamental protein types were different, even some of the basic orders were different.

'_How the hell am I supposed to decipher this crap? I'd have a chance with an Earth-based virus, but this is obviously generated by hand without ….!_'

Cassie bit down on her frustration and started cataloguing the structure of the thing's DNA. There were a few parts she recognized, but only a few. She began working at listing the differences and similarities

The hours passed as she peered into the workings of the virus, fingers flying across the keyboard as she typed in solid findings, possible correlations, estimates, best guesses, and random theories. The dull ache that had settled deep within her chest throbbed as thoughts of Vanessa, but she pushed them aside each time they surfaced, focusing on the virus before her.

More difficult to push aside were the thoughts of Jon. He could be dead a dozen different ways, captured, dying, hiding, or even still fighting. Whatever he might be facing, the best way she could help was to beat this virus.

She pushed back her thoughts of him again, trying to focus her eyes through the suit's face window. She wasn't sure how much longer it would be before the virus took her like it took Vanessa, but until it did she would keep working. The difficulty of wearing a full bio-hazard suit combined with tiredness …. Cassie shook her head and wished she could rub her eyes.

"You ok?"

Cassie glanced over at the doctor who had spoken.

"Sure. Tired. It's not so bad I can't work," Cassie quickly said as she turned back to the screen, "But, this suit isn't helping. Necessary, but not helping me."

"Well, you aren't coming down with the virus as far as we can tell without running bloodwork. I think it's the long hours and stress, not sickness."

"What do you mean?" Cassie's mind was returning to the virus analysis and the doctor's words skimmed across the surface of her mind, barely registering.

"You're one of the lucky ones who isn't getting sick. There are a few out there that we've found. Less than one in a thousand, but more than one in ten thousand is the CDC's best guess."

Something about that registered to Cassie.

"Say that again."

"Yeah, not everyone comes down sick. Somewhere between one in ten thousand to one in a thousand don't get sick. They're still working out why that is. Lots of testing going on. We've got the cure, though, thanks to you. It's just a matter of time, now."

"Yes! That could help," Cassie yelled.

The doctor looked at her askance. "Well, yeah, it might but they aren't there yet and we'll need to produce - "

"No, no, no, no," Cassie shook her head, this time with excitement, her thoughts racing. "I'm not sick. Of course I'm not sick! We need some of my blood!"

"Other labs are looking at people who aren't falling sick. We could draw some of yours too, but we'll need to go back to the iso room to -"

"Nah, just get some of my blood from storage - you guys have gallons of the stuff. Mom made sure I was always donating blood here, just in case. Quick, call the med and have - " she wracked her brain to remember her old SGC ID number. It had been years since she'd thought of it, but there had been a time when she'd known it better than her own address. "Um,379, uh … 379-240-1160. Cassandra Frasier. I'm not human or Aschen - my body will react completely differently to it, and that could help figure out exactly what differences there are."

The next hour passed in a whirlwind for Cassie. The other doctors had been a bit skeptical at first, but they'd done as she asked and explained to them. The analysis she was running was fundamentally examining which part of the virus was causing the sickness by trying to match up known parts of the virus with known parts of a human's genome and the differences of an Aschen genome. Slightly better than needle in a haystack, but only slightly.

With a third point to compare, she'd be able to drastically trim things down, and her own genome was even more different from human baseline than Aschen. It would be perfect to provide the check needed.

Three hours later Cassie and the others were making an excited conference call to General Richards.

"Yes, sir," Cassie said. "The altered virus will react to humans the way that the original virus reacts to Aschen - it makes the human cells produce a chemical that breaks down both versions of the virus. Humans will then be immune to both versions of the virus."

"I see. What are the concerns about side effects this will have on people? We might not have many other options, but I want to be damn sure this doesn't make things worse."

The base's CMO answered. "We're going to be testing it, but it certainly can't make things worse. Dr. Frasier was able to determine exactly which part of the virus needed tweaked. It's a very, very small part. We altered the virus so that it treats human cells like Aschen cells. It's a simple marker. The Aschen are just fine exposing themselves to this, so I'm quite certain it will be fine to - "

The video conferencing screen suddenly expanded with two new callers joining in. General Landry and General O'Neill suddenly appeared.

"Sorry to jump in, General Richards," Landry interrupted. "General O'Neill needs to get some information from these people immediately."

General Richards nodded.

"Cassie, good to see you" General O'Neill said from the screen. "We need to make a couple decision quickly. We have several plans we could implement, but if the Aschen statements are accurate about the lethality of this disease, we need to know before we can act. Cassie, you and the SGC have made far and away the most progress on the disease. Are the Aschen bluffing or not?"

Cassie felt a rush of nerves as it dawned on her that she was giving the input on something like this. She didn't know what options Jack had, but … whew.

"They aren't bluffing, Ja - General - it's easily within their capability and parts of the virus - "

Cassie stopped herself from jumping into a more detailed discussion of the virus.

" - well, it looks like it is probably lethal. But we've got a cure! At least we're pretty sure we've got the cure!" She rushed ahead. "The virus infects Aschen just like it infects humans, but instead of making them sick, it causes their bodies to produce a defense. It's brilliant. We've changed the virus so that it treats humans the same way. We'll be immune."

The silver-haired figure stared at her for several long seconds and Cassie unconsciously held her breath.

A slow grin formed at the corner of Jack's mouth, his expression softening.

"Damn, but Sam's gonna bust a button when she hears."

Then he shook his head minutely, pulling his 'General' look back in place.

"How soon will you know if it works?"

Cassie looked at the CMO who waved her to go on.

"We've seen an immune response in samples of blood. We haven't tried live trials. Thats what this conference is about."

"If live trials started immediately, how soon would you know if it works?"

"We saw responses in blood samples at forty minutes. Live tests should be about that time frame, but that's only an estimate."

Jack winced a little and Cassie wondered what possible responses they had under consideration.

"That will have to do. We've _got_ to know if this works or not as soon as possible. As soon as possible. Go."

Jack's screen went away.

"General Richards, you've got this," General Landry said. "Test now. Let me know as soon as you possibly can. We can make a hell of a response, but their response will likely be bigger. We need to know if it's worth fighting. If we can't beat this disease, we've got to surrender, but if we can beat it, we'll implement some assets that we think will hold them off for a while."

General Richards nodded gravely and Cassie wondered what the plan was. No one seemed very happy about it, whatever it was.

"Start testing immediately. Go."

A chorus of "Yes sir," came from the room as they all stood up from their chairs and headed toward the door.

"Oh god, please let this work," muttered the CMO as they left the room.

Cassie nodded.

'_Please, please, please let this work._'

* * *

**A/N: I didn't realize I had forgotten so much about virology! Sheesh! That, and I kept editing it, trying to get the right feel. Anyone ever seen "Andromeda Strain"? A 1970s movie about an alien virus. Lots of high tension lab scenes. I was aiming for that - trying to balance the feeling of long and exhausting effort being put into the lab work without making it completely boring.**

**Another of my (many) pet peeves, are tech/science developments that are ludicrously quickly done. Five minutes to sequence, fully decode a whole genome, and then make a pint of antibodies? Ten minutes to turn some bits of computer and wire into a radar? Sure! Why not!? :-( Grrr.**

**However, another pet peeve is that SG-1 never seemed to have any advanced tech in "casual" use. So, instead of it taking days/weeks to edit a virus's code, I'm sticking some restored equipment of Nirrti's into the background of this story so they can quickly do things like edit the virus.**

**Yes, I do realize my story is violating my "instant tech" pet peeve. But it's satisfying my why-don't-you-all-ever-use-any-of-the-cool-stuff-you-find pet peeve. So ... shrug. Hopefully it's not too grating for anyone.**


	52. Piece of Space Cake

**Sorry this has been going slowly - time is a bit more cramped at the moment. However! Never fear, for progress is still being made!**

**And as a mark of apology, I've popped up an extra big chapter. We've still got a ways to go, though, so I hope you don't mind a bit more of this sort of stuff in the next chapter.**

* * *

This time reality didn't bother sneaking up on Jon. It just punched him in the face. The type of headache was familiar, and the memory of Aschen soldiers zapping him and his team quickly came to mind.

'_Really, Jon? You recognize the weapon by the type of headache it gives you? Sad. Very sad._'

By instinct he stayed still, not yet certain of his surroundings. His eyes slowly took the room into focus. It looked like the ship's mess hall, and there were stacks of bodies casually piled about. He was on top of one himself.

A faint flashback to his black ops days shook him and smells of blood and cordite assailed him.

His heart began hammering and he closed his eyes, pushing back the memories with recitations of where he actually was.

'_It's clean here, I'm in a spaceship, the room is lit, there's no shouts of men coming to torture ..._'

His breathing slowed and he cracked his eyes open, taking in the differences. Painted walls, lots of light, tables, no blood. The man under him was breathing too.

Perhaps just as importantly there were no sounds of any conscious people. No voices.

Jon flexed his arms and legs, moving them slightly. No bonds.

'_Weird, but not complaining._'

He gently turned his head and saw what seemed to be the entire ship crew piled about the mess hall, apparently all unconscious. The tables were all clean, so … no food?

The men and women who had come up with him and Cameron were lying about as well, easily noticed by their protective suits instead of the standard crew uniforms the others wore. Their head coverings had been removed.

Strained ears didn't pick up any sounds of movement, and Jon slowly decided that he really was here without watchers, or at least any observation was electronic in nature. Nothing he'd be able to do about that, though. The haphazard piles of people suggested that the Aschen weren't worried about them waking.

'_Possibly ever,_' floated through his mind.

Nonetheless, he was awake and he wasn't about to let such an advantage go to waste. Maybe he could get some food while he was here.

His head nearly split with pain as he pushed himself up off the three people making a small pile under him. Two ensigns and a lieutenant.

For several seconds he stood still, swaying as dizziness washed over him and slowly faded away. With its fading, his thoughts slowly became more focused, and the distracted thoughts passed. Besides, they probably didn't have cake on a spaceship. Hmmm, space cake.

Jon grinned at his wandering thoughts. At least they were wandering down pleasant paths now.

'_All right Jon,_' he mentally shook himself. '_Figure it out. The Aschen guessed what our plan would be, but that was pretty easy - we had to take the bridge. Somehow they knew just how to get there quickly, and how to get in. Must have been a spy. Doesn't matter now. So why leave us all lying about, unwatched and unbound?_'

For that question, Jon didn't have an immediate answer, but he shook off his ruminations - he'd have to act quickly if he was to take advantage of the situation, whatever the reason for it.

Jon made his way over to Cameron and shook him lightly. He was still breathing. A few light smacks to Cam's cheeks seemed to get no reaction. He pried open his eyes, and the pupils reacted to the room's light. Good. Between the Air Force first aid courses he'd taken over the years, and his frequent stays in hospitals, he knew his way around the medical basics.

_Smack!_

Cameron's head rocked from Jon's smack, but he otherwise didn't stir.

'_Ok, so _that's _why they weren't worried about binding or watching us. They drugged us. Or ... _' his mind spun for a second. '_Or … it's whatever they used to take out the people here in the first place. Yeah, just remove the suits' head covering and let them breathe it all in. Their ray guns keep us unconscious long enough for the … whatever it is, to take effect._'

So he wasn't going to have any backup here.

Fine. Just … dandy.

He grabbed his backpack and weapons from where they had been tossed in, and quickly checked through it.

The grenades, det cord, stacks of ammunition and clips, and the weapons weighed well over a hundred pounds, but he wasn't likely to be making ten mile hikes in space. He grabbed Cameron's Zat too.

Time to go hunting. He needed to contact SGC, but in a ship crawling with Aschen soldiers, and possibly some of their super soldiers - yeah, he was going hunting.

The door zipped open at his approach, and he listened carefully for any sounds of Aschen coming to investigate. Nothing. He slid a little mirror slowly around the door's edge to double-check, but there was no one.

He started down the hallway, ears searching for the slightest sound and soon caught a faint murmur from up ahead. He was approaching one of the computer network hubs scattered through the ship, if he remembered correctly. Which made sense, he decided, if the Aschen were still trying to gain control of the ship.

"... there's nothing connecting them. These crystal things _can't_ be involved in this run"

"It _must_ to be involved, though. Every time we reset the communications, this bank of crystals activates."

A tiny grin pulled at Jon's mouth. Sounded like they were having headaches with the technology. Good.

He poked the mirror around the corner, seeing the backs of several people. He risked poking his head around and saw four men hunched over a bank of crystals and human computers, and two men standing guard watching the technicians, weapons casually held in one hand and four rifles set to the side.

Jon pulled back, plans spinning through his head.

'_They're _really _confident that no one is going to be active onboard. Good. Time to take advantage._'

Probable response times and response routes from other parts of the ship flashed through his mind combined with his own available tools and responses.

"No sir. This tech is unlike anything else on Earth. They've integrated some weird crystals in their systems. We're still working on bypassing it."

Jon grinned. One of the technicians sounded like he was reporting. The Aschen calmness was a little frayed, he could tell.

"Yes sir. We're ready to run a test. Restart the communications board again. …. Yes sir."

"This isn't going to work."

"Maybe not, but it's the only thing we can think of."

"So we've descended to the point of turning it off and turning it back on, hoping it works?"

"Look, if you have any better ideas, we'll go with them!" The voices were testy.

Jon heard a brief burst of static from the ship's speakers and a couple groans from the men around the corner. Someone there chuckled softly, and Jon suspected it was one of the guards.

"Unravel it all! Nothing is connected at all between them! Those crystals are completely separated! Nothing but power leads connects them to anything! It's illogical!"

The voices lowered to soft curses and mutters. Jon pulled out the zat, deciding this was as good a time as any.

He stepped around to see them still huddled around the bank of computers.

Zap! Zap!

The zat'nik'tel shot out its beams, catching the two guards in the back.

The sound was enough to have the techs spinning with alarm and diving aside as Jon zatted another of them.

"We're - !"

One of them had triggered his comm and Jon zatted him next. The other two had dived behind the guards, using their bodies as covers, and the zat wasn't the most precise weapon to aim. He got one of the technicians in the butt, enough to knock him out, but the last technician had picked the larger guard to hide behind.

The man was calling into his comm when Jon zatted the guard's body twice more, making it disintegrate with the third shot. The technician's face was a rictus of shock and terror as he looked at Jon for a tiny fraction of a second before Jon's shot caught him and sent him into unconsciousness.

None of the technicians had gotten off information about who he was or what sort of force was attacking, but the frantic, aborted calls were plenty to sound the alarm.

Strike and Evade.

'_I'm telling Jack we need a version of SERE for space._'

* * *

Strike Team Leader Vellum stood with manufactured calm at back the alien ship's bridge, attention split between the scanners which showed the Aschen fleet surrounding Earth and the progress being made by the occupation crew which he had led to take the ship.

The capture had gone smoothly, but after that ….

He knew his altered perceptions removed him from the psychological norm of his species, and he was fine with that, in the larger scope of things. He had another forty years to serve his position before he would be reversed to a normal member of the People. It was his service. It was his place.

But damn! Would the rest of the crew please work a little faster?! A dozen technic-trained were working on the ship's system with no apparent concern that they were aboard an unresponsive hulk that could be blown up at any moment if Earth's defenders decided to destroy them.

At least that was what he would do if he were in charge of Earth's defenses! The officers and technics seemed to be oblivious of the possibility. Captain Deellor was calmly making decisions where asked, and exposed no sense of hurry about any of it.

Vellum clenched his fist on the back of the chair next to him, feeling the metal bend under his grip.

The metal's groan caught Captain Deellor's attention.

"Strike Team Leader Vellum? Is something wrong?"

'_Yes something is wrong! You're all moving like molorks! We're in a Unravelor-Damned war! Not a training scenario!_'

Vellum gritted his teeth, the carbon-frame teeth withstanding the force that would have shattered normal teeth. He forced himself to speak carefully.

"Captain. Should the Earthlings determine we are about to take their most powerful space vessel, they will likely destroy it first. They surely know we have overcome their own rescue team. We must get this vessel to an operating state immediate!"

That last part had come out rudely forceful, but Captain Deellor ignored it.

"Apparently you are in error. They have not yet destroyed this vessel which suggests they cannot."

Vellum gave a rudely skimpy acknowledgement of the Captain's decision, and seethed. He glanced over at Makkan,the other Enforcer on the bridge, and an unspoken word of agreement passed between them - they were both feeling uncomfortable with the state of things.

'_Or, the humans can tell we are making no progress deciphering their security systems, so they are just taking care of other things before destroying us!_'

He had a grudging respect for the security systems on the ship. Who would have ever thought of having security built into the very stations of the ship! Madness. It was like they didn't trust each other and were putting roadblocks in front of each other … just because. If he understood the technic mutterings properly, each person was likely required to put in a personal code just to activate their station, and then the station could only access particular parts of the ship's systems.

Madness not to trust each other and to put up difficulties for each other, but damn it was effective madness at keeping them out of the computer systems!

His question must have stirred something in the Captain. Vellum's acute hearing could clearly hear him speaking into his comm to one of the teams.

"... restart the communications system _again?_"

"_Yes sir,_" came the response from the person on the other end.

"Very well."

The Captain spoke. "Power station. Remove the power connection array for the communications array and then put it back in."

The technic calmly and unhurriedly followed the captain's orders as Strike Team Leader Vellum glared.

'_What stupidity is this? Unplug it and plug it back in again?! Have the technics gone mad? What possible good could that do?_'

Vellum wrestled his irritation back under control. He forced himself to go through a stalking preparation exercise, lowering the adrenaline in his system. The problem was that they were in combat, and yet he couldn't do anything. He was designed for combat, aggression, and action. He could suppress the drive at times when he was not in combat, but they were in combat now whether they realized it or not, and the hormones were making him edgy.

He was considering cutting his status all the way back to non-combat-ready when his hearing picked up the sound of the Captain's earpiece activating with shouts of alarm.

The Captain listened to the brief calls and turned - '_With too much damn slowness!_' - to face Vellum.

"It appears that there is an Earthling that was missed when we captured their team. Gather a team and go remove the threat. We will continue …"

Vellum didn't wait for the drawn out conclusion of the order. He signed a quick order to Makkan to remain at the bridge on guard even as he kicked his senses into overdrive and darted toward the bridge doors. He skidded to a stop as they opened, slowly to his perceptions, and he pushed them open and was gone into the hallway, already calling his strike team together.

His hearing did pick up a soft sigh from the Captain as he streaked down the hallway.

"... Enforcers are useful, I guess, but ..."

Stupid norms! Sometimes he was certain that he would remain as a Strike Team Leader when his time was up. It seemed like the rest of the entire Aschen people were too … boring!

Ninety seconds later he and the rest of his Strike Team had gathered two hallways down from where the technics had been attacked.

Most of the security on the ship were merely Aschen soldiers, but the Strike Team - they were the true power of the assault force. Five more fully enhanced enforcers like himself. Whoever this was, they would track him down and gut him.

His hands flashed through signs and the team began to advance on his orders.

Two of them moved ahead and activated their highest hearing settings. It was enough to hear heartbeats at a hundred feet. The ship's walls would bounce the sound around, but they would know if their prey were anywhere around.

The two of them paused, obviously listening and then signed that there were multiple heartbeats near the place the technics were supposed to have been, but that was all.

Vellum and the others moved forward, weapons at the ready until they reached the tiny hallway leading to the computers the technics had been investigating.

Five bodies lay scattered about, all apparently alive, but that was all. He waved three of his team ahead to secure the other end of this hallway as he and the remaining two investigated for any clues.

Mollers pointed to a scrap of human-colored cloth under the guard and Vellum nodded for him to get it as he watched their backtrail. No one would be sneaking up on them to catch them by surprise - he was a veteran of hundreds of fights and no one was going to catch him or his team by surprise. He heard a scrape and clunk as Mollers grabbed whatever it was from under the guard's bulk.

Vellum glanced over his shoulder to see what it was.

Mollers was holding up a smooth metal ball with an odd little post and clamp sticking out to the side. Mollers glanced up at Vellum with a puzzled look. It wasn't something Vellum recogni -

BOOM!

The blast sent Vellum flying and he could feel a dozen sharp stings pierce his body even as he was in midair.

Vellum's body bounced against the bulkhead and landed with a clang against the hallway floor. His instincts were telling him to get up and move, but his body was still catching up and it took him several seconds to pull himself to his knees.

Bannum arrived as he tried to stand up, giving him a hand to balance on.

'_Booby trap._' The thought finally made it through his mind as he turned to see the results.

Enforcers had greatly toughened skin - cells wove a webbing of multiple fiber types across their skin, providing toughness, pain resistance, and a strong resistance to being pierced by projectiles.

It hadn't been anywhere near enough to protect Mollers whose head and chest had been shredded apart. Geller who had been partially between Vellum and the blast was lying on the ground not far away, bleeding heavily from deep wounds. He would probably survive with quick aid. Maybe.

"Strike Leader, you're wounded."

Vellum shook his head slightly. He'd been a little further away and Geller's body had protected him from at least some of the blast.

"I'm still combat capable. Call in aid for Geller."

"Yes sir," Bannum responded, keying his com.

Vellum looked down the hall to see two of his men still at that end of the hall, keeping watch, though they were both glancing down his way.

'_Good men,_' Vellum thought. They hadn't all come rushing down, leaving everyone open for a potential second attack.

It was something these hostiles might have done. It had been nearly a century since Enforcers had faced any hostiles with anything but the crudest of projectile weapons. These Earthlings were experienced and advanced enough that they might set up devious double ambushes.

He began checking himself over.

Several long furrows were bleeding slowly, already beginning to clot up thanks to his improved body. His calf had a piece of metal sticking out of it which he tugged out with a wince.

Bannum pulled out four more pieces of metal from his back. They had managed to poke through both his uniform's protective cloth and his skin, but just barely. Little more than drops of blood oozed out.

He glared at the wreckage of Mollers' body.

"Forget even trying to capture these people. Just kill them."

It wasn't loud, but he knew Enforcers could hear the words.

He looked down the hall just in time to see a blue beam lance down the hallway, making his men quickly pull back before returning fire down the hallway.

Vellum lunged forward, his wounded calf just barely slowing him down as he streaked down the hall.

He glanced quickly around the corner and saw a human pop around to fire one of their own beam rifles down the hallway.

They hadn't fought against an advanced enemy for a hundred years, but they'd exercised against each other quite often. He knew just how to deal with beam rifles. They had an unfortunately long recharge time, but were safe for ship use. Regular Aschen wouldn't be able to make it down the hall before the rifle had recharged, but Enforcers? They'd be on him before he could fire again since it seemed to be just one person down there.

The idea that it had been just one person to take down the entire tech team passed across his mind, leaving a little thread of worry.

"Tuv, Bigg. Time your run. Bannum and I will provide cover. As you're ready."

They exchanged two more sets of fire with the human, setting up the pattern. The human poked his head and gun around, sending down a beam, and Tuv and Bigg took off, half-blurred even to Vellum's enhanced eyesight. It would be barely a second for them to cover the fifty feet -

Half way down the hall, they suddenly seemed to leap up against the ceiling, arms flailing, bouncing off the ceiling, walls, and floor as they flew down the hallway.

It took Vellum a second to recognize what had happened. Gravity had been cut off in the hallway.

He had just enough time for a sick feeling in his stomach to grow before Tuv tumbled through the air to the intersection. A loud series of blasts echoed down the hall as an automatic projectile weapon began firing. Tuv's body jerked and flew backwards against a wall, pinned by the impact of the bullets.

The force of the impacts kept him there for several long seconds as the roaring continued, blood splattering from Tuv's body held weightlessly against the wall.

Big had managed to catch a light fixture along the hallway and stop himself short of the trap, floating in the air, twisting to face the threat ahead of him.

The weapon's roar stopped and Tuv's body drifted away from the wall, and Vellum could hear the Earthling's feet as it cautiously moved away.

'_I'll rip his entrails out and stuff them down his throat!_' Tuv wasn't a particular friend, but the idea that this _Earthling_ was killing his men burned deep in Vellum's gut.

He could see that a floor panel at the hallway intersection ahead wasn't set back in its place and snarled. He'd bet a million credits that the gravity system ran through that intersection.

He lost the sound of the human's footsteps down the hall and ran forward, diving ahead where Tuv and Big had lost their gravity. He continued sailing down the hallway, giving a slight correction to his drift against the ceiling and sailed through the intersection, gun aimed down the hall, but the human had left. He reached out and grabbed Tuv's body, sending them into a sudden twisting path, but he'd had several classes of zero gravity combat, and he quickly reoriented himself and pushed back toward the intersection.

Big and Bannum had followed after him, and pulled themselves around the corner into the Earthling's corridor where gravity was again being generated.

"I've called in medics, just in case," Bannum said.

Vellum nodded and pulled out his tablet, bringing up a ship schematic. He spoke into his com.

"Squads one, two, and three. A hostile is on the loose. Armed. Dangerous. Squad three, guard the bridge. Two, proceed to intersection of F-3-1 and R-3-9. One, go to D-3-2 and S-3-7. Bridge, shut down lifts between floors. Technics along hallway E-3-1 should evacuate to intersection of F-3-1 and R-3-9. Wait for squad two, then return to bridge."

Vellum ignored the flurry of confirmations to his orders and snarled at the remaining two people on his team. "We aren't going to follow this little bug around, stumbling into his traps. We're going to corner him and rip him apart."

He gestured to his tablet.

"He's trapped in this triangle here. There are plenty of rooms to hide in, but that's fine. He can't leave - we're going to corner him somewhere in here. Pin him down and then kill him."

They both nodded, anger glowing in their eyes.

Vellum checked and re-checked his map of the human ship, looking for likely places where the accursed human might set up ambushes or traps. It was evident that the person was a soldier willing to go on the offensive, but his larger goals were uncertain. Likely he was he looking to sabotage the ship, crippling or even destroying it, but how? They needed to keep him isolated from sensitive areas while they cornered him, and the quicker the better. If the human could somehow escape their enclosure …

"Boarding squad one in place."

"Boarding squad two in place."

Vellum nodded. Good. They had the human trapped.

"Proceed with a room-by-room search of hallways D, E, and F. Leave four people at your current locations and the remaining eight proceed with your searches. Once you find him, keep him pinned down until reinforcements can arrive. He is heavily armed and dangerous."

He tagged his tablet onto his and took his own weapon out. He and Bannum began moving down the hall.

Half way down the short hallway rooms began to open up. Based on what he had heard, the human had run further on, but he wasn't taking any chances with this one. Doubling back for an ambush seemed just his style.

Fortunately the first two rooms were unlocked - a storage room and a small meeting room. Their agent's identity card had stopped working fifteen minutes after they had arrived, but it had gotten them into the key areas before it had stopped working. The Earthling's penchant for locking their own people out of rooms on their own ships was bizarre and had to be wildly counterproductive, but it was certainly proving to be a pain. On the other hand, it would limit the human too.

The hallway ended in a T-intersection with the hallway their teams had designated as E-3.

"Bigg, you're going to cover this intersection while we start scouting hallway R here."

Vellum quickly laid out their own search pattern which would clear the ship as they went forward. Their prey would be hiding somewhere, hoping to evade their search and then gain access to the rest of the ship, but they could hear his heartbeat from fifty feet away and could dodge his shots. The human was doomed as long as they didn't get sloppy.

"Bannum, you listen here for anything, then we'll split up and proceed with our searches."

He and Biggs retreated back to the opposite end of the hall. Their sensitive hearing was extremely useful, but with two other heartbeats thundering nearby, it would be difficult for Bannum to detect much of anything else. Vellum noted Bigg had stopped breathing, and followed suit.

It was a useless gesture. The sudden, sharp explosions of projectile weapon fire was muffled and echoed through the halls, but easily audible.

Vellum and Bigg both blurred forward to Bannum's position. Vellum's com crackled to life as he arrived.

"Weapons fire at D-3-4! Squad one, team one taking fire! Men down!"

A second series of blasts were clear over the com channel with the soft whine of their own rifles barely audible as a faint response.

"Secure your position," Vellum yelled into the com while grabbing his tablet to check where D-3-4 was located. Likely the human was in a conference room. Unfortunately it had two doors, which was probably the human's retreat route. "Squad one team two proceed to support team one. Squad two teams remain ready until hostile confirmed to be pinned down. I am proceeding to D-3-7 for assault on the hostile's rear."

He spoke to the other Enforcers. "Bigg you're covering this exit point in case he manages to slip away. Bannum, you're with me."

Several more blasts echoed through the halls as he spoke and though Vellum winced at the possible carnage that was likely being visited on the soldiers, he also cheered - the unraveled human was at least staying put. Hopefully they'd close off his escape.

He and Bannum flashed through the halls, ricocheting off bulkheads as they took corners. The relatively short hallways didn't leave much room for acceleration, but they still manage to make the trip in less than a minute.

They skidded to a halt in front of the second door to the conference room and took positions on either side. They could clearly hear their prey on the opposite side, or at least the blasts from his weapon.

Vellum gestured for Bannum to hit the door release and growled in frustration as the door failed to open. Locked!

Well there were manual ways to open these doors. It just took longer.

Suddenly the blasts from inside stopped, and they pulled back from the doorway, hoping the human would be exiting.

Vellum's com spoke up.

"Target closed the door. Repeat, target closed the door."

"Status," Vellum ordered.

"Six men down."

Vellum winced. '_How can a _human _be doing this? They don't have Enforcers!_'

"Hold position. Squad two, teams one and two proceed to their position. Prepare for entry. Doors are likely locked. Force doors but do not enter until my mark."

Bannum was working on the door. The doors had manual locking mechanisms, but the human must have jammed something in it from the other side because it wasn't releasing.

Vellum tried not to pace as Bannum worked on the door, the man's grunts showing the poor progress.

"Squad two arrived. Working on door."

Two long minutes passed before Bannum stood up.

"Sorry. We're going to have to take cut through. I can't get more than a finger in there. These aren't enforced bulkheads or doors here. It won't take long."

Vellum shook his head. "Too long to fetch and set up. Look out."

Instead of bothering with the lock Vellum took a position opposite the door and began dumping adrenal hormones. Almost instantly his heart began racing and his vision narrowed down to the door in front of him. A deep breath and he lunged forward with a kick to the door next to the latch and lock.

_Clang!_

The door's metal dented in.

Again he pounded his kicks against the door.

_Crang! Screech!_

The door's metal deformed under the kicks and finally began to pull away from its lock.

Vellum glanced quickly through the inch-wide gap and then stuck his fingers through and heaved back. The kicks had heavily dented the door at the lock, but had also deformed the rest of the door. Vellum's enhanced strength was enough to force the bent metal back along its track two feet before he dove out of the way, expecting a blast of weapons fire.

Nothing came, though, and Vellum rolled to his feet, chest heaving with the exertion.

"See about the other door. Hopefully it wasn't as thoroughly jammed. If though, bash it open."

Bannum nodded and took off, circling around the halls to head to the other side of the room.

"Bigg," Vellum called through his com. "Come over to me. We have the enemy trapped."

"Confirmed. On my way," came the man's reply.

Vellum looked through the half opened door, hoping to catch a glimpse of their foe, but a pile of chairs was stacked in front of the door to chest height, obviously hurriedly placed to slow any entry. It also blocked sight of most of the room unless he poked his head in, and he definitely preferred to keep his head on his shoulders.

Vellum hated to admit it, but the crude block would be effective in slowing them down. They were going to pay a butcher's bill to get through, he suspected, but the human was trapped now with no way to escape.

A moment later he heard the impact of Bannum's kicks against the room's other door and then a screeching of metal as the door was yanked aside.

Vellum heard the speeding footfalls coming his way, and seconds later Bigg arrived at his side.

"He's somewhere inside. We're assaulting from this side while Bannum and the troops are coming in from the other."

Biggs nodded his agreement as Vellum keyed his com. "Bannum, we're starting with a light show, then assault. Don't skimp on the lights."

"Confirmed. Light him up, and go."

Vellum charged up a string of light bombs, the tiny glass bulbs each generating more light than a million of these lights of human design. The human would be blinded even if he had his eyes closed and covered with his hands.

He pulled out a electronic face mask. It sealed over his face, a solid metal mask providing everything he needed inside, the only view generated by its screens, using the dozens of tiny cameras it sported. He glanced at Bigg, showing the Enforcer had his own visor in place.

Vellum subvocalized into his com. "Bigg, you in first to the right. I'm following to the left. Everyone. Lights on 'Go'. Three … two … one … go."

Vellum flung his beads in, catching a brief bit of motion directly across the room as Bannum threw in his own light beads. Then his world went dark except for a red glow that flashed around the edges.

The cameras started again just as Bigg smashed into the room, sending chairs flying. An echoing crash came from the other side as Bannum began his assault.

It was just the briefest hint of movement that caught Vellum's attention. It would have been out of his line of vision if not for the expanded field of vision the visor provided. One of the doors down the hall opened up just as he was about to plunge into the room with the trapped human.

Vellum halted his step.

Two of the human gunshots sounded from inside the room along with a small explosion, and the sizzle of beams began to hiss in the room as the soldiers began to shoot in response as they piled through the doorway.

Every fiber of Vellum's body vibrated to charge in with them to rip apart the human, but the door opening just fifteen feet back down the hall set off a competing suspicion in his mind. Vellum stepped back from the conference room door just as the human stepped forward from the doorway down the hall.

Vellum saw the tall, solidly muscled man step into the hall facing him. An expression of surprise was on the man's face, but it was merely a passing flicker and the man's face returned to a cold concentration.

Vellum had put down insurrections on four different worlds over the last eighty years, and had been in more fights than he could remember. After that many years, the fights tended to bleed into one another, and the faces were mostly the same. Battlelust and rage in the face of someone charging to kill him. Then, soon after that, fear and desperation as he almost effortlessly destroyed them.

He'd killed hundreds of people with his bare hands or with massive clubs, the degenerate, crude, ungrateful scum of those who refused to appreciate the Confederacy's right to rule. Rage, fear, desperation, even sometimes a brave recognition of coming doom and yet still resisting. He'd seen them all.

He hadn't seen this sort of expression though - a calculation, an iron confidence, and a - a -

Vellum didn't have the words to describe it, even to himself. Vellum had been in fights for longer than this human had been alive, but this human exuded a professionalism Vellum had never imagined. Something in the man's expression seemed to be looking through him, as if he were nothing more than a problem about to be removed.

Their eye connection suddenly snapped and Vellum began to move forward as the man's hand came up. Vellum had done this a hundred times before, and this soldier would die just like all the oth -

The hand didn't hold a weapon, but instead a device with a little red switch.

Something deep in his mind screamed out a warning, but it was too late. Even as Vellum took a step and then another, the man's thumb flicked the switch and the world roared in response.

Spaceships were cramped for space, even in this big Earthling spaceship - every inch utilized. The blast was caught in the iron-walled conference room and compressed by the unyielding walls. The air vents were small and did little to release the sudden blast pressure. The doors, half open were the release route for the overpressure, and the blast of superheated air pounded out of the doors, catching Vellum with a giant's sledgehammer and smashing him against the opposite wall.

Pain exploded through Vellum's body at the impact. He barely registered the world around him as he crashed to the floor, his face mask popping off. His body desperately fought against unconsciousness, but it only managed to stave it off for a few seconds.

Vellum's final sight was of the floor, and then a human-designed boot stepping into his view.

A final, puzzled thought managed to spark through his mind as darkness overtook him.

'_Just human. How …._'

* * *

**A/N: Thank you all for the comments - I really do love them!**

**I'm gonna bend your ears, er, eyeballs ... or ... hmmm. "Bend your eyeballs" doesn't work very well. So "bend your ear" while reading becomes ... Anyway! I'll bend your eyeballs for a second on my take on Aschen.**

**They don't have a professional army in the sense that Earth nations do - their army is more along the lines of what we would think of as guards and, well, enforcers - armed forces primarily used for suppression of minor rebellions and rioting _among non-Aschen_, and maybe guards _against mostly non-Aschen_. Their Enforcers are certainly elite, but most of their training is oriented toward breaking up riots among relatively low-tech opposition. They have fought the Goa'uld, but that is far more a matter of biological warfare than direct Enforcer-vs-Jaffa combats. So once again, they haven't fought directly against professional forces. They haven't faced more than late 1800s level of weaponry in a long, long time.**

**Ditto for some of their culture's interactions with security - there haven't been nation-states among the Aschen, and combined with their cultural norms of suppressing emotional reaction in favor of carefully logical decision making while following orders, they don't have anything close to the concept of "hacker". Especially considering that they keep all the subjugated peoples down at a 1700s-level of development, there's not much need to protect your computer systems. (that, and they're far more interested in biological systems than artificial systems)**

**Why would you put passwords on something? Someone who needs it might not be able to access it! Worried about unauthorized access? Nonsense - no one would do that!**

**So anyway - a few hundred words about something that's only of interest to me. Hmmm, maybe there's a lesson in there somewhere.**

**Eh. Nah!**


	53. Going Out With A Bang

**The sarcophagus works! It's alive again!**

**I just want to give a shout-out to all you authors out there who somehow manage to write stuff even with kids and family. You have mad organizational skills and dedication to the craft that I truly envy.**

**I promise I'm going to finish this in quick order. In fact (good news peoples) I have the whole thing finished (ish). I've never fully dropped the story, but my writing times were widely spaced and short. Two thirds of the writing sessions were entirely taken up by re-reading what had just happened and then re-writing bits and pieces of stuff, and then before I actually got around to writing new content, I would need to get on to other tasks.**

**So. Yeah. You writers with family - I am super impressed by you!**

* * *

Jon looked down on the Aschen super-soldier at his feet. He pulled out his 'zat and shot the guy once, just in case. He'd seen the first couple of kicks to the door before he had crawled into the sub-floor to withdraw from the room. Anything that could kick down a metal door like that might be tough enough to take getting smacked around by the blast.

Heck, that blast had hit him pretty hard even though he'd been forty feet further away around a corner. He had planned to just check to make sure they had actually charged in before stepping back into the office.

He stepped over the body and rolled through the doorway, shotgun at the ready..

"Looks like a bomb went off in here," he muttered. He paused for a moment, almost hearing the groan from Jackson, and smiled to himself.

The long table was nothing but scrap now, and everyone in the room was torn to shreds. Chairs, quickly pushed in front of the doors were scattered around the room, mostly broken.

He'd taken the six Aschen rifles he had collected and ejected their power cores. Then he'd wrapped the cores in det cord and plugged in a radio-switch. Some string and an assault rifle had laid down the gun fire that had made it sound like he was still in the room, at least long enough to draw them all in.

Jon kept his shotgun to his shoulder, regardless of the motionless bodies smoldering on the floor. A careful examination through the other doorway showed that everyone had charged into the room.

Jon let out a breath and headed up the hallway.

He wasn't sure how many troops had come aboard in the assault, but he had to have hurt them pretty heavily. Hopefully heavily enough that they would be pulling into defensive postures, leaving some areas clear enough tt he could put his half-formed plans into action.

"That's right Jon," he spoke to himself as he jogged up the corridor, "My plans are half-formed, not half-assed."

The corridor intersections later and he was beginning to be hopeful that the Aschen had pulled back, until he turned the corner and almost ran into an Aschen guard with one hand to his ear.

Jon lunged forward, swinging the butt of his shotgun around in a vicious arc as the surprised Aschen pulled back.

Jon had to give credit to the guy - in spite of being surprised while listening on a com, he had reacted quickly. The butt of Jon's weapon collided with the soldier's rifle, but the man managed to keep his grip while pulling back to gain some room. Jon plowed forward into the man, grabbing the rifle with one hand while dropping his own weapon. The soldier grabbed ahold of his gun with both hands, trying to wrench it around to fire at Jon, but Jon kept it blocked out with his forearm.

Then he swung with his right hand, fist colliding with the man's ribs.

Jon grunted in pain. It felt like he had punched a ceramic vest insert. He would have sworn the guy didn't have any armor on but -

The soldier took advantage of Jon's pain and distraction to wrench his rifle free, stumbling back.

Jon dove forward toward the man as the gun fired with a whine and crackle. He could feel the hairs on his head spark as the beam just missed his head. But it did miss, and Jon tackled the man backwards, shoulder into the man's stomach and hands around the man's legs, piledriving the soldier to the floor.

This time his shoulder spasmed in pain as the soldier's clothing suddenly hardened as they hit the floor, feeling as if he had just tackled a stone to the ground. Jon groaned even as he forced his body to move, pulling up and knocking the rifle from the man's hand.

The soldier was feebly trying to move, addled by his head striking the floor even with his helmet's protection. Jon pulled back and fumbled with his Zat, his hand and shoulder protesting the usage, but the soldier's slow recovery gave him time, and a crackling buzz filled the air as Jon sent the soldier the rest of the way to unconsciousness.

Jon carefully flexed his right hand, wincing as it tightened.

"Great, I take out a dozen soldiers without a scratch and then break my hand punching a single guy. Lovely."

It was definitely cracked - usable for light work, but anything heavy was probably out of the question. His shoulder didn't seem to be dislocated, he checked with a quick roll, but it was going to hurt to use.

Shaking his head in annoyance, Jon quickly patted the soldier down, taking his weapons. Jon considered the helmet for a second, wondering if it would be worthwhile trying to use it to listen in to any comm traffic. Then a second thought hit his mind and he considered the man.

"Hey, it worked for Luke," he mumbled and quickly began stripping, keeping his weapon in hand.

Two minutes later he finished pulling on the Aschen soldier's clothing. It wasn't a great fit, but as long as he kept the pants tucked into his boots, it would pass a brief inspection ... at a distance. Thank goodness for general function keeping boots looking similar - his own looked close enough and he was pretty sure he would have been walking funny in the smaller man's boots.

The helmet's interior squirmed on Jon's head as he put it on, but it stopped after a second and Jon found it fit perfectly, the snug fit keeping it on his head without the need for straps.

"Nifty. Never did like those damned chin straps."

The helmet beeped twice, and then again after a few seconds before going silent. He didn't know if they were 'working' beeps or 'error' beeps, but if the universe was smiling at him he'd be hearing their comm chatter.

He pulled the tablet-like device the soldier had been carrying and examined it briefly. It was a hell of a lot thinner and smaller than the handheld computers he was vaguely familiar with on Earth. It also seemed to be denser, maybe ruggedized for military use or something like that.

Some alien words appeared on the screen when Jon pressed a little bump on the side, and Jon gave up on the item and slid it back into the belt-pouch. The tech-heads would love it, he was sure, but he didn't have time to poke at it; with his luck he would trigger the self-destruct. The rest of the pockets on the man's clothing were filled with odds and ends Jon recognized as the sort of stuff almost every soldier tended to carry along - snacks, some basic med equipment, a set of dice, and a few pieces of electronics.

"Some things will never change," he smiled to himself as he pushed it back into his pockets.

He slung his backpack over a shoulder along with his weapons before dragging the body into a room and took off again, this time heading straight for the bridge. He approached each corner with caution, carefully listening for any new. Twice he heard the echo of several jogging feet coming through the halls, but they seemed to be moving toward the main bridge.

He was getting close to the bridge, the last hallway crossing before the bridge doors was a forty feet ahead, when a doorway next to him suddenly zipped open with a hiss and Jon dropped and spun, weapon ready to fire. The doorway was empty, though. Jon glanced up and down the hallway, backing away a few steps, wary of a trap.

The door suddenly closed and opened. Closed and opened. Jon watched with alarm and growing puzzlement for several seconds before noticing the door's opening and closing pattern was following a pattern, an easy to notice pattern: short-short-short long-long-long.

He looked around the hallway and noted the regular security cameras along the hallway leading to the bridge. He tried waving to one, and the door suddenly stopped its pattern.

Several long seconds passed and suddenly it began opening and closing again, still in short and long motions, but no longer so regular. It was spelling out letters in Morse Code.

Long. Short. Short.

Short.

Short. Short. Short.

"...t, r, o, y, t, p, o, r, t, s, h, i, e, l, d, b, r, i, d, g, e," Jon slowly said to himself as the door cycled back and forth.

He turned and scowled at the camera and started clapping his hands slowly, tapping out a reply.

W, h, e, r, e ….

The door behind him suddenly began flipping open and closed rapidly and he turned back to it. It began signalling letters again.

U, s, e, v, o, i, c, e, k, i, d.

Jon snorted.

"I wonder who's signalling me. Could it be someone who rhymes with geezer," he spoke to the camera. "So destroy the shields in the bridge. Got it. One problem, I know exactly _jack_ about computers, even if I could get access to them while they're shooting at me."

He crossed his arms with a smirk. He was suddenly feeling much, much more confident about this. Whatever _this_ turned out to be.

P, u, t, h, e, a, d, t, o, u, s, e, s, m, a, s, h, c, o, m, p, u, t, e, r, the door signaled back. It paused, then continued.

T, e, n, o, c, l, o, c, k, f, r, o, m, h, a, t, c, h, a, l, o, n, g, b, u, l, k, h, e, a, d.

"Someone's typing for you, Jack," he said even as he turned and began unloading his backpack. "You said 'door', didn't you? And that Morse was way too good to be you."

He dug through his pack, pulling out grenades, and the door didn't answer him.

"Can you tell me what they're doing inside?"

N, o, 2, 3, i, n, s, i, d, e.

"Can you unlock the _hatch_ for me," he asked, stressing 'hatch' as he continued rifling through the backpack.

N, o.

'_Of course not, that would be too easy._'

"So, can they see me right now, you know, on the security camera, like you guys?"

N, o, l, o, o, p, i, n, g, v, i, d, e, o.

"Nice. You control the doors and the security video, but not the teleport shielding?"

The door was quiet for several long moments and Jon finished delicately pulling the pins of four grenades and then taping the spoons down with as small of pieces of tape as he dared.

C, o, m, p, u, t, e, r, s, t, u, f, f, the door finally signaled.

J, u, s, t, b, l, o, w, c, o, m, p, u, t, e, r.

"All right. How about this," Jon suggested as he continued his delicate taping operation. "I'll run back up the hallway a bit and you guys turn the cameras back on so they can see me coming. They'll open the door hopefully thinking I'm one of them. That should be enough for me to let loose. Oh, um, how do they signal to come in? Knock?"

D, o, n, t, k, n, o, w, h, a, t, c, h, o, p, e, n, s.

"Crap. Probably they talk over their radios or something. I guess it's the best option we have. Maybe they'll let me in anyway."

A, g, r, e, e, d.

T, h, i, r, t, y, s, e, c, o, n, d, s.

Jon nodded, setting aside the jocularity he'd let flow through him as he had prepared his equipment and planned his assault. His mind began a countdown as he jogged back down the hallway.

His previous plan had been to lure out the people in the bridge. The bridge was one of the strongest parts of the ship and there wasn't a way for him to get in without some serious equipment or maybe Sam's hacking skills.

Or maybe having Jackson would work. With Jackson's luck, he'd lean against the door and have it unlock somehow. Then he'd tumble right into the clutches of some snakeheads, too. Clumsy space monkey.

He wasn't sure what Jack's plan was, but whatever it was, he trusted himself to come up with a solid plan, something that was better than a half-baked idea of forcing defenders out of the bridge. With the teleport shielding down, they might be able to beam up a whole platoon to re-take the ship.

He should have a few seconds of uncertainty where they wouldn't immediately shoot him. As much as it irked him, he'd have to come in without any weapons at the ready, though maybe …

Jon pulled out the wide cloth from the soldier's little pack of med equipment and looped it around and around the four grenades. It was barely enough to keep them together, but it kept them from being obvious as he carried them. Anything for an extra second or two of confusion.

He began obviously limping up the hallway toward the bridge, holding the bundle of pin-less grenades gingerly in his arms.

One way or the other he would make sure that computer was blown. Hopefully he'd even survive.

Jon reached the doorway with a limp and tried to appear tired, and knocked on the thick blast door.

"I'm wounded. Can you hear me?"

He hit the door again and waited.

"I've been wounded by the Earthling," he shouted, again hitting the door.

The blast doors suddenly zipped open and an Aschen soldier, weapon held alertly but not aimed at Jon looked at him curiously before scanning carefully back down the hallway.

"Come in."

Jon limped in, doing his very appear wounded, and angled to the left toward where Jack had said the target computer system was located.

The bridge had a captain's chair in the center and screens lining almost every square inch of the walls with consoles scattered around the sides of the room. Normally the fifteen meter span of the bridge would feel relatively roomy, but it was filled at the moment with soldiers and technicians. In fact, Jon did a quick estimation, he would need to talk with Jack about his count of people in the bridge. Around forty people were packed into the bridge, not the 23 Jack had told him. A collection of a dozen soldiers were nearest to Jon while a multitude of unarmed Aschen were gathered around every computer station.

'_Including the one I want,_' Jon thought as he glanced toward his goal. There were two seats at the station he guessed held the computers running the teleport shield and four men were gathered around it.

An officer was striding toward him from the captain's chair and behind him ….

Jon's senses went on high alert, and his steps stuttered. A slightly taller man was coming behind him, and everything about him set off warning bells in Jon's mind. The alertness, the air of supreme confidence, and the smooth gate that maintained a perfect balance screamed to Jon that this was a very dangerous person. He would bet a year's pay it was one of the Aschen super soldiers.

"Please, I need to sit," Jon moaned as he stumbled toward the chairs in front of the console. He had to push past two soldiers, but they moved out of his way.

Questions began to pop up around him.

"What happened out there?"

"How many?"

"Are they close behind you?"

He kept an eye on the leader and the super soldier behind him. His staggered path raised some worry on at least the captain's face, but it did put a few soldiers between him and the leader.

"Is your comm damaged?"

"Are you hurt?"

The questions continued as he made his way through the crowd that was now fully focused on him. Thankfully the men gathered around the console that was his goal saw him coming and were moving out of the way, seeing his apparent wounded status.

"What's your name soldier? Where were you stationed and what did you see?"

The Aschen commander's voice cut through the voices and they fell silent as Jon reached the chairs and collapsed. He knew his general goal, but before he had seen the situation in the bridge he hadn't known how he should accomplish it. He had been prepared to break the tape on one and toss the whole bundle almost immediately if they had seen through his disguise too quickly.

He had made it this far, but he was pushing his luck if he took this much further. He plopped the wrapped grenades down on the console in front of him and stuck his hands inside and quickly began popping the spoons up.

Five Mississippi.

"Sir, this was a distraction. Look at the forward screens."

The fourth grenade spoon popped up and Jon pointed toward the front of the bridge and stood up.

Four Mississippi.

"They have cloaked transports bringing in troops."

Three Mississippi.

"Who are you soldier? Give your name," the commander's question was filled with suspicion.

'_Yup, that's it. Cover blown!_'

Two Mississippi.

Jon leaped forward, sprinting for all he was worth to get as far away from the grenades as he could. The bridge was just barely big enough that grenades on one side wouldn't kill him as long as he was on the other side. Especially if there were a few bodies between him and the blast.

Most of the technicians paused in surprise, but the soldiers were faster and several of them started towards him. However it was the tall man that had followed the commander that reacted most quickly.

'_Shit! Definitely enhanced!_'

Two soldiers were between Jon and the super soldier, and they were shoved aside with enough force that they were briefly airborne before tumbling through several other people.

Jon grabbed for the knife on his belt even as he ran across the bridge. He had a brief hope that he could make it across the room in time when he passed the captain's chair, the bulky seat providing a barrier between him and the coming -

One Mississippi.

The enhanced soldier's form blurred as he leaped after Jon, clearing twenty feet and the captain's chair in a single leap.

Jon dove forward, trying to dive beyond the man's reach, but felt a hand clamp around his ankle and yank him back with unbelievable strength. He felt himself get spun through the air and then released, flying through the air. The sudden reversal disoriented him and he wasn't sure which direction he was being flung.

'_Dear God, not back toward the -_'

In the enclosed space the sound of the grenades going off was less a sound than a battering ram slamming into him, and the world tumbled wildly. His helmeted head smacked something and his body felt like it smashed into a solid wall.

A second blast followed the first by a half second and the blast hammered him again, and the world began spinning wildly, the sound oddly muted to Jon's ears. Something hurt, screaming pain was trying to get his attention, but he couldn't quite figure out where the pain was coming from.

Was somebody hurt?

The world swam lazily in front of him, swirling around with red lights flashing a hazy pattern that he couldn't quite seem to grasp. Two more somethings happened, but Jon couldn't quite grasp what they were. They were … loud, but they were oddly muffled.

Something heavy fell on him and his view was suddenly filled with grey.

He tried to concentrate on it, but it didn't make any sense. And the world was spinning. And the red was flashing.

On the grey. What was the grey?

It was getting pretty dark. The grey was hard to make out.

Jon felt a minor annoyance that it was so hard to understand, but it was getting dark, and he was so tired.

Maybe when he woke up he'd figure it ….

Blackness fell over him, and Jon knew no more.

* * *

**I also want to thank those who wrote comments even during the "dead" time for this story and added the story to your favorites even though it wasn't finished. You guys really did help keep me going through my writing spurts.**

**I hope to get this cleaned up and post the last several chapters over the next week or two. There's a bit more editing than normal since the writing was spread out over so many tiny sessions over so much time - I fixed three or four little continuity issues just in this little section with things that had gotten dropped/added in future chapters.**

**Thanks all!**


	54. Physics Is A Bitch

**I forgot what it was like. Watching and waiting for comments. On pins and needles to see if people still read the story and chapter. Whew! It's energizing and** **makes me want to post more!**

**So why not!**

**Unfortunately, Jon died in the last chapter, so the story is getting finished up from Jack's POV.**

* * *

Jack stood still behind the collection of technicians who were trying to access the Odyssey's systems as he watched Jon on the screen. There were advantages to experience and he drew on every ounce to remain calm as he watched his younger self wrap the grenades. He knew exactly what Jon would likely do. If there was immediate suspicion when he walked in, the collection of grenades would be immediately flung in the direction of the console, letting the jolt knock the tape loose on the grenades. That was far and away the least preferable option, but it would probably be effective. If there wasn't immediate suspicion, Jon would try to place the grenades and loose the spoons manually before getting a safe distance between him and the grenades.

But in an enclosed room barely bigger than the effective radius of the grenades themselves, "safe" was a very uncertain prospect.

"Sir?"

Jack grunted at the voice of the lieutenant he had commandeered as an aide. So far she was doing pretty well, and managed to translate his grunt into an affirmative to continue.

"We have all technical members ready to go. As soon as the Odyssey's system begins rerouting teleport shield functionality to the backup teleport shield, we'll start beaming them up. However, the, um - "

Jack noted the hesitancy in the young woman's voice and turned to her, irritated. Apparently the irritation showed and the woman blanched before surging ahead.

"Sir, the special forces teams are not in position to be beamed up. They are enroute to us, but are still twenty minutes out."

Jack's head snapped back around to look at the screen showing Jon limping up to the bridge's door, er, hatch.

A thread of outrage ran deep in his mind - why hadn't he been told they had been delayed long before now - but far more immediate was that Jon was going into the jaws of the beast, and the backup and security he thought was already in position, ready to be beamed up, had suddenly disappeared.

"Everyone with a weapon on them is coming with me," he called out. "Now!"

Jack turned and sprinted for the door. One person, a skinny redhead, jumped from his seat and began following him. Jack slammed through the door and sprinted down the hall at top speed.

The techs were gathered in a room on the other side of the Pentagon sublevel that was serving as the DC center of Stargate Command.

Officers flattened themselves against the walls as he ran by and he ignored them, but as he passed a group of people in fatigues he yelled again, "If you've got a weapon, follow me!"

Ten seconds later he skidded to a stop at a guarded door. The guard had already seen him coming and had opened the door.

"You're coming with us," he huffed to the guard as he went into the room.

A dozen soldiers, all holding piles of computer equipment were standing in the room and looked up at him with surprise.

"Security got delayed and we have a _very_ tight window to get aboard the Odyssey, people," Jack called out. "We," he jerked his thumb over his shoulder at whoever had followed him, "are your impromptu protection and boarding party."

He turned to get a look at who had followed him.

'_Oh. Just. Ducky._'

Four people stood just inside the doorway. The guard was clearly armed with his service pistol, and one of the people in fatigues he had passed in the hall was there too, a solidly built base guard with her service pistol. They looked competent, but …

The red-haired technician wasn't armed, and his lieutenant had followed.

He had run through half of their floor, during an invasion, shouting for armed people to follow him, and he'd gotten _one_ person.

'_Memo to self, require staff to be armed during an emergency._'

"You two," he pointed to the tech and his lieutenant, "stay outside the door. When the Odyssey's teleport shield goes down, they're going to race the shield reset and send everyone in this room up to the Odyssey. Armed hostiles have the ship."

"Sir, I am armed, sir!"

The skinny kid snapped off a salute and pulled a standard issue knife.

Jack blinked.

His lieutenant, Houston, her uniform said, didn't say anything, but reached into her pocket and pulled out a …. Walther?

"Fine. Red, you follow with the techs and soak up bullets as best you can. You," he pointed to the security guard that had been watching the door to the teleportation room, "are with the techs too."

Jack gestured to the guard who had followed his sprint through the halls. "You and Bond here, are with me. We're going to head for the - "

Suddenly the world flashed white.

"- bridge."

They were on the Odyssey.

"Red, pick up a weapon if you can. They know their part, just accompany them."

"Um, sir, what about you," his lieutenant asked?

Jack shrugged out of his dress jacket jacket and grabbed the Beretta M9 from his left underarm holster and loosened the one in his right underarm holster. His personal Colt was tucked in the small of his back and an F-S knife was sheathed on his left forearm.

"Oh," she said as he walked out the door.

The female guard who had followed as he ran down the hall looked at him with a bit of a shocked expression. "Sir, you can't have conceal-, um, never mind, sir. Sorry, sir."

Jack only vaguely registered their words as he rolled around the corner, pistol guiding him. The cameras had shown much of the ship, but they had only been placed at key intersections rather than being a full-coverage system. It would be easily possible for groups of Aschen to be completely undetected in the time Jack's people had been able to access the Odyssey's systems.

Jack sensed the guard fall in behind him and the lieutenant take the sweep position as the technicians flowed out the door in the other direction.

They had arrived mid-ship, and Jack led the impromptu boarding team forward, quickly scanning the hallway intersections as he came to them, but they were empty. It felt strange, walking through an empty ship, and he tried to not let his paranoia of teams of Aschen coming up behind him slow him down. There were too many hallways for his tiny group to cover, and since there was nothing he could do about it, he'd have to forge on anyway.

They reached the bridge's door without incident and he hoped the techs were doing all right. The bridge was able to control nearly the entire ship. Given time, the techs would be able to cut out the bridge's controls, but if the bridge was able to react, there were a lot of different nightmares the advanced ship could cause before the technicians could take over. He suspected that having some grenades go off in the bridge would keep them occupied.

Jack hunched at the door and looked at the other two.

The guard, a solid-looking woman with 'Mars' on her name patch looked tightly focused, and held her pistol with a confident grip that wasn't white-knuckled with tension. Jack approved. His Bond-fan lieutenant looked a bit more freaked out, but seemed to be holding it together well enough for now.

"We're basically going in shooting. We have only one potential friendly in there, and I don't know his status. Grenades went off in there about two minute ago, so there are probably plenty of wounded, but they've had time to recover.

"The door here is on the left side of the bridge. I'm going in and covering right. Mars, you go in covering ahead and left. Bond, you're shooting straight up the center. Stay in the doorway. We have very limited ammo, so conserve your shots. There might be some weapons in there if you have time. Got it?"

He hated doing this sort of action without a trained team. Ideally they would have something more than pistols, they'd have a special forces team trained for this sort of stuff, they would lead with a bunch of flashbangs, and there would be a lot more than three of them charging into who knows what sort of craziness.

"Sir, why am I 'bond'?"

Jack looked back at her. The lieutenant was wide-eyed and breathing quickly. Jack grinned. "Your Walther PPK. Classic Bond!"

She looked at him blankly.

"You know, James Bond? He uses a Walther?"

Her face shifted to a puzzled acceptance, but he could tell she didn't get it.

"Kids these days. No appreciation for the greats," he muttered.

The two women snorted slightly, and Jack smiled to himself.

Jack shifted and pulled his pistol to the ready. With a quick glance to the other two he punched in his ID code to the panel next to the doorway.

The doors opened onto a scene of carnage.

People littered the floor of the bridge, scattered about with limbs lying askew. The emergency lights were flashing alongside the regular lighting, giving a flickering surrealness to the scene.

A dozen people were standing or crouching over others lying on the floor, voices talking in low urgency, and bandages scattered about.

Surprise was complete.

If he had a whole team, they could have saved lives. The shock of flashbangs combined with a dozen armed soldiers coming in shouting to get down on the floor was almost always enough to keep a full-blown firefight from breaking out.

Three people with pistols didn't have that option.

Jack swept around to the right and opened fire on two men sliding a third wounded man across the floor. Two shots took the closer one in the back, knocking him forward, and the next two shots took the other man in the neck. To Jack's adrenaline-fueled body, the bloom of blood and the shocked expression on the man's face seemed to happen at a leisurely pace and he swung to target the next person.

He heard shots behind him as he opened up again. The next person was almost certainly an officer; a moderately decorated, drab-grey tunic didn't give much clue as to rank, but he had been giving an order when Jack burst in and was still standing with a shocked expression on his face, arm still pointing in the air.

More shots rang out as Jack walked sideways along the bulkhead, shooting as he went. The officer went down in a heap as the screams began to sound, the inhabitants of the room finding their voices after the surprise of the assault.

A guard, sitting on the ground, apparently wounded, was the next to catch Jack's attention. The man was grabbing his weapon and pulling it to bear on Jack. Several more shots rolled out from Jack's gun and the man was flung back, the gun falling aside.

Instinct from thirty years of combat told him it was time to switch weapons or reload, and he ducked behind a console while holstering the one pistol and pulling out the other.

He had come about fifteen feet from the doorway and he looked back to check on the others. Mars had taken a classic pistol-shooting stance a few feet inside the doorway. He couldn't see Bond, so hopefully she was still covering straight through the doorway.

There were too many points of motion for Jack's comfort, but they were mostly people crawling for cover, away from the shooters. Jon must have done a bang-up job because only two people were crouching running, everyone else was pulling themselves along in ways that suggested they were already wounded.

Jack popped up and began firing at three soldiers, who were crawling as a group toward a small pile of their weapons. Jack's weapon jumped in his hand and he rode the recoil back down, sending shot after shot into the three soldiers. He knew he was hitting them from their jumps and jolts, but they kept crawling. He vaguely noticed that more shots were hitting the soldiers than just his own, but he spent the whole clip before the third soldier finally stopped moving.

As he dropped that pistol and pulled his Colt from the small of his back.

He forced himself to scan the whole bridge, working to fight the tunnel vision that cut out his peripheral vision. Several people were curled up on the floor, too wounded to move to cover. Four people were cowering behind chairs at bulkhead computer stations. They didn't seem poised to move and Jack pushed them to the back of his threats radar.

The bridge seemed to be clear of visible threats, but three large banks of consoles near the front of the bridge were blocking a lot of area from his view, and he wasn't yet confident that they had removed the threats. He held up his fist and then flashed several signs to Mars to stay and cover him. She nodded and gestured through the doorway to Bond who was still out of Jack's sight.

Jack slowly made his way along the bulkhead in a short-strided walk that kept him ready to fire, his gun aimed at the front of the bridge, ready to fire at any threats popping up from behind the consoles.

"Throw down your weapons and slowly stand up with your hands above your heads!"

For a long second, there were no sounds as Jack continued moving, and then three men with weapons popped up from behind the consoles, weapons already firing at Jack. A fourth bolted from where he had been hiding, charging the doorway.

Jack dove forward with a roll and began firing back at them. His third shot dropped one of the men firing at him, and Jack charged forward again as the men's fire began to track toward him.

The blue beams sizzled as they cut through the air, but Jack's motion kept the shots from connecting as he raced ahead.

Two more steps and he finally passed the edge of the consoles, and lined up the soldiers so the nearer soldier blocked the further and was no longer covered by the console.

Jack slid to a halt, pulling his pistol in line as the soldier fired at him again, but the beam crackled past Jack's head. Jack's return shots hit the man in center of mass, the heavy .45 shots flinging the man back. A blue beam licked out from the further soldier as he tried to move around his falling companion and fire at the same time, but it hit the floor next to Jack's foot as Jack again caressed the trigger, pumping three shots into the final soldier, sending him backwards to sprawl over the console he had used for cover just moments before.

He took two measured breaths watching the fallen soldiers before moving his attention back to the doorway where Mars and Bond were …

No longer standing.

The fourth soldier was standing with Bond held in front of him, one arm twisted up behind her back far enough that it was probably dislocated, and his other hand gripping her throat.

Jack's gun leapt to target the man.

"Drop the weapon, earthling, or I'll rip her throat out."

Jack belatedly realized that his uniform was distinct from the others - a matte-black color with a different cut. Jack's stomach sank a little. He'd read the reports on the Aschen super-soldiers, and he would bet dollars to donuts that this was one of them.

"Geez, a little bloody, don't you think? You don't go with crushing, or snapping necks, or anything like that? Straight for the bloody option?"

Jack slowly circled around, forcing the Aschen to slowly shift as well. Bond's face was a mixture of pain, fear, and anger as the taller man kept her between him and Jack.

As Jack came around, he saw another evidence of the man's strength - Bond's feet were dangling six inches off the ground.

"You earthlings don't seem to understand anything else. Lowest common denominator. Drop it."

"Oh, you caught our Game of Thrones reruns. That's just TV. We're actually all bunnies and rainbows."

The man looked puzzled and shook his head in irritation. Jack was rewarded with a small smile from Bond before she suddenly gasped.

"Put down your weapon, or I'll rip her arm off. Then I'll rip her throat out. Then yours."

"Wow. You sure you aren't a snakehead? I haven't seen the whole flashy-eyes thing, but that sounds pretty snakey. Not very Aschen-like."

He continued to circle, keeping up a patter of talk, his circle slowly closing the distance.

"I'm Aschen! We're the greatest of Aschen! You and your planet are nothing but chattle, worth only what you can do for us."

"Da-a-ang," Jack drawled out.

He noticed that the Aschen was turning awkwardly, favoring one of this legs.

"I knew the Aschen were nasty, but I always had you guys pegged as cowardly-nasty. Too afraid to face things head on, so you guys do your fighting with bio-weapons so you could stay hidden away from needing to actually risk -"

The lieutenant's mouth was slowly counting down from five. As she reached zero, her legs kicked back, hitting the Aschen's left thigh. It wouldn't have done much against even a normal human, much less against someone of the Aschen's strength and toughness, but her captor gasped and his left leg crumpled.

Jack rushed forward, trying to close the distance for a clear shot, but the Aschen soldier let go of Bond's arm and caught himself against the wall, holding the struggling lieutenant by the throat in front of his body with one arm. Bond's right arm was gripping the Aschen's forearm, trying to keep her neck from snapping in the super-soldier's grip, her left arm dangling uselessly.

"Aah! Stop there!"

Jack stopped, gun still trained on the Aschen who was still twenty feet away. The man grimaced in pain as he straightened.

"Naughty, naughty," the man said through gritted teeth, effortlessly shaking her with one hand. "For trying a stunt like that…" He grabbed her dangling arm's forearm with his free hand and squeezed.

Jack winced as he heard the snap of bones and the young lieutenant's gurgling scream of pain.

"You must be a defect or something," Jack continued, keeping his tone even. "Aschen are usually smart enough to know when it when they've screwed up so bad they can't win any more. I came with a boarding party that is securing the rest of the ship. As soon as they're done with that, they'll be here and take you down too. Show a little brains for once and give up now."

Something ugly flashed through the man's eyes.

"What? You think I couldn't rip my way through a thousand of you puny Earthlings without even breathing hard? The only reason any of them will have time to realize they're dead is that my leg hurts a little. I'm going to paint the walls with their blood."

Jack goggled at him momentarily.

"Really? That's the best you can do? 'Puny earthlings?' 'Paint the walls with blood?' Are you too stupid to come up with original threats? I thought Aschen were supposed to be super-advanced or something. You have a birth defect or something? One of our guys took down a dozen of you so-called soldiers. Three of us have almost finished the job here. You don't have to die too, so put her down and you'll live."

Jack watched the arm holding the lieutenant for any quivering, suggesting a tiring of the arm, but was disappointed in that regard. The Aschen was, however, no longer paying as much attention to his captive, and his human shield was being being held lower.

"I crushed that soldier into paste for his troubles, and I'll do the same to you and everyone else on this ship. When we finish taking your world, I'm going to find every member of your family and rip them to pieces. Your -"

The Aschen suddenly stopped ranting and looked over to the side and Jack stepped forward, closing another couple feet before the Aschen jerked his human shield up and stared at Jack.

A slow smile grew on his face and a wicked glint in his eye.

"Your child? Yes, I can see it now. You two look a lot alike."

Jack's eyes tightened.

"You're a bit too old to be in a boarding party, but if he was your kid - ha! So funny. Would you like to know how he died? I beat him to a jelly. Crushed him bit by bit for setting off those bombs in here. He screamed like a little girl. I'll give you this comfort - I'll kill you in the same way. A son spawns from his father."

A sickness rolled through Jack's gut. It would fit his guy to do something like that. A flood of rage burst through him, banishing the sickness.

"Really? You think you could take me? Fine."

He tossed his gun aside.

"I'm gonna take you apart, piece by piece, you genetic mistake."

The Aschen's eyes widened in eagerness at Jack's motion, and then in rage at Jack's words. He casually tossed the lieutenant aside. Even the casual, one-armed toss sent the woman flying halfway across the room before hitting a chair with a crash.

Jack noted the anger and gave the Aschen his cockiest smile..

"You're nothing but a patchwork freak. A crude piece of muscle that's not even Ascen any more. Bottom of the barrel. Good for nothing more than soak up bullets for the real Aschen."

The man's face twisted in white-hot rage as he stalked toward Jack. The limp was barely there and Jack hoped that it hadn't healed or something.

"Rip and tear you," the man roared as he began to charge.

Jack slid his knife from his forearm sheath in a smooth motion and threw.

The man's good leg was in the air, coming down as Jack threw, and the Aschen's twist required his hurt leg to do the work. Wounded, it was too slow.

The knife buried itself into the thigh an inch above the kneecap.

Jack vaulted the captain's chair away from the Aschen as the man fell toward him.

He watched as the man yanked the knife free and struggled to his feet, flinging the knife aside. It hadn't stuck in nearly as far as it should have on a regular person, and there was no way a normal person could stand back up with that leg like the Aschen was doing.

"You super-powered, vat-brained morons are all the same."

The man was snarling as he continued limping toward Jack. He stalked forward hands flexing. As he got closer, Jack began circling.

"All muscle, no brain."

He stepped in swinging a big, haymaker punch.

The man's reflexes shot his arm up to block faster than Jack could see, but he stopped his punch and kicked a quick snap kick to the knee.

The Aschen saw the shift, but again, couldn't move his wounded leg in time. Jack's boot caught him on the knee and the man's leg collapsed.

Jack circled around the man's falling grasp and slammed a fist into the base of his skull.

It was like punching a tree trunk.

Jack continued spinning away as the Aschen spun on his knees trying to grab Jack.

"You could snap me like a stick," Jack remarked as he let the Aschen get back to his feet.

"But I have a secret weapon," Jack said.

The man glared at him for a couple seconds and took a few quick pants. A shudder ran through his body and he stood straight, suddenly as if his legs no longer bothered him.

He stalked forward, and Jack backed up, watching the oncoming Aschen carefully. His gait was a little jerky, but not nearly what it should be.

"My secret weapon is that I'm an old geezer."

He paused for a tiny second until the Aschen's forehead crinkled slightly, his words registering.

Jack lunged forward with another giant roundhouse punch.

The Aschen didn't bother blocking, instead leaning forward with arms reaching to grab Jack's body.

Jack felt the fingers grab his sides like iron bars, grasping for purchase.

With both of the enemy's arms engaged, Jack kicked again, this time ignoring the legs and hitting directly between the man's spread legs.

It felt like his shin was kicking a rock and he cursed as the Aschen's grip caught around his ribs and pulled him in.

He went with the pull, slamming his head forward into the Aschen's nose, feeling a crunch, but there was but no release of the iron fingers grabbing him. Panic gnawed at the back of Jack's mind as the inexorable strength didn't budge at Jack's headbutt and began to squeeze his ribs like a vice sending pain shooting through his ribs.

Jack swung his open palms around as hard as he could, slamming them over the Aschen's ears with a loud clap.

While the pain hadn't been able to distract the man, the sudden disorientation of his eardrums blowing out stunned him.

Jack picked his feet up, the shift in weight beginning to pull them forward, the Aschen's grip still holding him, though the grip was loosened. As they fell, Jack planted his feet on the Aschen's chest and thrust out with all his strength.

All the strength of his legs pushing was enough to break the stunned grip, and they flew apart, Jack landing on his back heavily.

Jack got to his feet unhurriedly and watched the Aschen stagger to his feet as well.

"Yup, an old geezer who's been fighting super-powered aliens for nearly as long as you've been alive."

He jabbed with a couple feints, and while the Aschen's arms blurred with speed, they were uncoordinated and the man's balance had him staggering with the force of his swings.

The Aschen swung wildly, and Jack managed to deflect the blows, ducking around their power more than blocking them. It felt like blocking someone swinging a massive sledgehammer at him - he was just barely able to deflect the blows, and even that was because the punches were unfocused, the movements slurred and off-balance.

"Ya learn a few things, like - " Jack scooted back quickly to get out of range of a small lunge. "Like, even though you're super strong and all that, you still - "

Jack placed his hand on a console for support and kicked what he assumed was an alien med kit at the Aschen's feet. The box was as large as a large toolbox and nearly as heavy. Jack's thrust wasn't subtle or even particularly quick, and the Aschen had plenty of time to gather his legs and jump over the sliding box, easily clearing three feet of vertical distance up and over the box and coming down at Jack.

Jack grabbed the damaged Aschen rifle that was resting on the console and swung low.

In mid-leap, the Aschen's strength and speed could do nothing to change his trajectory. Jack's swing was low, below the Aschen's flailed hands trying to block, and the energy rifle connected with the Aschen's ankles. The man's feet spun off to the side with the impact, and his upper body rotated along with them as he fell.

The Aschen's head cracked against the console and he lay still twitching for a second before spastically trying to rise.

"You still fall just as fast as everything else," Jack finished as he stepped forward.

The man's arms and legs jerked as he tried to get them to push himself up.

Jack flipped the energy rifle in his hands, getting a better grip on its barrel. He stepped next to the Aschen soldier who had managed to shakily pull his arms beneath him.

Jack took a deep breath and swung the rifle around and a long circle back, up, and down on the Aschen's neck just as he had done ten thousand times before at his cabin splitting wood with an axe.

The Aschen's body jerked at the impact and then lay still, the head cocked off to the side at an impossible angle.

"It's just physics, bitch, and I have the galaxy's smartest woman as my teacher."

Jack dropped the ruined rifle and turned away.

* * *

**Yeah, Jon certainly didn't lose his mouthiness when he was made from Jack. As in the show, it's a bit of a trademark of the character.**

**Too bad that Jon's dead and we'll never see him alive again. ;-)**

**My Writing Struggle insight time: the balance between "real life" and staying true to the feel of the universe/story. Stargate certainly isn't a true-to-life depiction of all sorts of things, such as military behavior and stuff. They focus on the story and characters more than "real life" physical laws and stuff. (which is part of what makes the show so awesome!) So writing some of this stuff was a back and forth between trying to (relatively) accurately depict military and tactical combat, and trying to avoid the ludicrous Tom Clancy-style ten pages of detail describing the threading on the inside of a gun barrel.**

**I'm aiming for Military-sounding-enough-to-not-jerk-you-out-of-the-story-but-still-keep-the-adventurous-romp-feel-of-the-SG1-story-universe.**

**Sorry if I went too far in the "adventure romp" direction. This chunk got trimmed and re-written a dozen times as I kept trying to describe military base structure, likely ranks to be found in an area, likely number of people armed, ship layout, and tactical behavior. At one point it was nearly three times as long as it is now. I finally got absolutely brutal in hacking and slashing away chunks, to get it down to keeping the action moving along without ****pages****screens to expository text.**

**So ... there's a bit of insight as to why the story is the way it is.**

**Also, this chunk probably took eight or nine months in total to complete. That might have something to do with it too.**


	55. Viruses and Phages, Oh My

**Not particularly long, but I wanted to get something posted today, and this was all I had time to edit up.**

**Alas, poor Cassie. Isn't she going to feel horrible if she winds up saving the world just to have Jon be dead?**

* * *

Cassie tried not to look over to where Vanessa and the three other unconscious airmen were lying as she watched the serum mix with her own blood sample. The little viruses merely showed up as tiny specks at her current magnification, and her blood cells were massive flying saucers, but she was able to watch scores of cells at a time.

There!

Cassie quickly zoomed in on the area, and the microscope's focus shifted to focus down onto a single blood cell. She silently offered a breath of thanks to whoever had convinced the SGC to allow her down to the hybrid Asgard-Human scanner deeper in the mountain, as she was able to zoom in on the blood cell and then even closer to focus on its edge where the tiny viruses were coming into contact.

The attractions that worked at this scale were different than her macroscopic experiences, and she felt a small thrill of delight as she was able to physically watch the viruses attracted to the cell wall like iron filings to a magnet.

The cell wall, no longer a smooth, rounded surface, but instead a rough wall of craters and pinnacles, was under assault by four viruses, just on the section she was watching. Humans didn't have the technology to watch viruses invade cells with any clarity, at least before now, but she had an idea of what it should look like - a merging and absorption of the virus into the cell. This was nothing of the sort. Instead, the viruses were orienting themselves mostly perpendicular to the cell wall, and then … twitching.

She zoomed in closer to a virus that was still aligning itself at an angle she could watch, and stared as it settled in, and then began twitching. The twitching was something like a needle poking from the virus into the cell.

She shuddered, knowing that what she was watching was currently happening to her own body - the Aschen virus was unloading its genetic payload into her own cells.

Cassie scrolled the view all around the cell's wall and saw the same all over the surface. She pulled back out and zoomed in on several other cells that had hordes of viruses stuck to their surfaces.

"Damn," she muttered to herself. "That's … " She shuddered.

She had watched this happen twice now on other people's cells. The virus that had been edited, thanks to the Asgard-Human hybridized equipment, had attacked human cells and Aschen cells.

Human cells had started pumping out more of the virus itself and then two hours later began pumping out a liquid they had identified as a type of sugar alcohol, but with several changes to its handedness. The twisted molecule made the envelope of the Aschen viruses fall apart in less than a minute. With the tweaks Cassie had made to the virus, it now treated human cells like Aschen cells. Human cells now pumped out the twisted molecule, and Aschen cells didn't.

Cassie guessed that the delay gave the virus enough time to spread partially throughout the body before it started producing the mirrored sugar that would cause the virus to unravel. At that point, the viral spread was quickly overcome by the mirrored sugar molecule that would begin circulating in the body.

An Aschen infected with the original virus might barely feel a bit tired, but that was it. The infection wouldn't have time to truly set in before it destroyed itself. A human infected by the original virus, on the other hand, would never receive secondary effect of the mirrored sugar production, and the infection would grow unchecked.

She wasn't sure how it was causing unconsciousness, though there were several different possibilities, some better than others for long-term recovery. Other doctors were checking on that aspect.

People were going to be tired and in desperate need of food as their bodies were forced into an overdrive of production by the alien virus, but they would mostly survive.

"Cas," the voice was barely more than a whisper, but Cassie still jumped in surprise.

She turned to see Vanessa looking blearily at her from the cot. They had brought her and the others in for quicker testing after the initial tests of the serum had all come back positive.

"Hey Vanessa, how are you feeling?"

"Wat."

Cassie frowned for a second and then realized what Vanessa had meant.

As Vanessa sipped on a straw with some water, several nurses rushed up and began taking readings and asking questions. Within another five minutes the other test subjects had also awakened, and Cassie forgot her research as they helped them recover.

"Looks like you're in full recovery," Cassie finally told Vanessa. There was a mild fever, aches, and severe tiredness, but they were recovering quickly with water, electrolytes, and some sugary drinks. "We know the solution, but it's a question of production and distribution. How to get the cure to seven billion people."

Vanessa nodded.

"Any word on Cameron and Jon?"

Cassie tried to look unworried.

"I've been buried down here. I ... haven't heard how the fighting is going."

Vanessa snorted.

"You're too nice. Get me a phone. I'm going to talk to my dad."

Cassie didn't want to interrupt the people running the defense of the world, but Vanessa seemed to have no such compunctions and within minutes had gotten them to a nearby conference room and had General Richards on the screen giving them an update.

"... plan developed that Jon would disable the anti-teleport defenses and the boarding party would seize the ship. I have been focusing on getting a ZPM to the Antarctic site and only happened to hear of that plan because it may impact what we do with the ZPM.

"The uncertainty over whether there was any point in resisting, paralyzed a great deal of the decision making," General Richards rumbled, and Cassie could hear an undertone of disgust or frustration. "But, once there was even the possibility that your discovery would work, plans finally began to move forward. We will be fighting back, and I am reasonably certain that we can fight off the Aschen, though if we are able to recapture the Odyssey successfully, we will have a great number more options open to us."

"Do you know if Cameron is all right," Vanessa interjected.

"Colonel Mitchell?"

General Richard's voice was distinctly puzzled at the unexpected question.

"They didn't mention him in particular, just that Jon was going to attempt to disable the anti-teleport system."

"Will you let me know when you hear of anything," Vanessa asked.

"If I can," the general replied. "Right now, though, we need to get the cure in production. Cassie is working on that; you're assigned to help her."

"Yes, sir," Vanessa said with a strong hint of sarcasm and General Richards sighed.

"We need that cure. Please, 'nessa."

Vanessa slumped and nodded.

"Sorry dad. Yes, I'll be helping here."

"Thank you. I'll try to get word to you if we hear anything more about Jon or Colonel Mitchell, I will send along word. Good luck."

Vanessa looked at Cassie as the screen went dark.

"So, obviously you've got a cure," she gestured at herself. "So what now? Mass production?"

Cassie frowned. She hadn't been working on the problem of production when Vanessa's recovery proved the counter-virus worked, but it had been at the back of her mind the whole time as yet another, potentially unsolvable problem. Growing the counter-virus for one person was the first level of the challenge, and producing enough to start distributing to the base and other important personnel was the second level. The second level was only achievable because of the Asgardian equipment they had on hand. Normally even a few hundred doses would take weeks or months to produce.

No, a typical vaccine was able to be produced at that rate. This wasn't a vaccine at all; the Asgardian equipment was growing and multiplying the virus in a way that was completely impossible by current human technology.

But, as nigh-miraculous as that was, taking enough production to cure a few hundred people was only one ten millionth of what was actually needed to cure everyone on Earth. And then there was the issue of distribution even if they were able to create enough.

"Ok, well the cure is a counter-virus. It's the Aschen virus, but tweaked to cause human bodies to make the particular molecule that unravels the virus. As an added bonus, the tweaked virus won't do this for Aschen systems any more, though they wouldn't have much trouble developing a quick fix even if we were able to infect them somehow.

"We have Asg-"

Cassie stopped. Technically Vanessa wasn't read into anything, and it was only because of extreme circumstances that she was allowed here. Opening up the existence of the Asgard was definitely way above Cassie's level. On the other hand, it would be impossible to hide it for long. Still, better to avoid it for now as long as it didn't cause problems.

"Um, we have some experimental equipment that can produce the counter-virus, but not in the amounts needed to save the world. Maybe a few thousand doses per day. People will start dying by the billion from dehydration in two or three days."

Vanessa frowned.

"No magic tech from the aliens to help with this?"

"Possibly if we had enough of their ships with their medical technology available, and we knew how to use it, we might be able to produce enough, but … no, not realistically in time to make enough. And then there's the distribution problem. We'd need to do something equivalent to how they infected us in the first place."

Vanessa looked at Cassie dubiously. "So we're doomed, even if we drive off their ships … up there," Vanessa gestured in a broad arc at the ceiling.

"Well, I mean, with … if hospitals could keep people hydrated and nourished, that might keep a few more alive to receive the counter virus. But - "

Cassie once more felt the crushing weight of doom. She had known the problem in the back of her mind, but had been pushing it aside while she had been researching cures. But now, verbalizing it had dumped it all right back on top of her.

"We're still looking at ninety-nine percent of the Earth's population would still die even if we could make enough for ten million doses! And we are looking at only thousands of doses!"

Cassie spun away in impotent rage and hammered down her fists on the conference room table. Every chair around the table suddenly flew outward, smashing into the walls.

Vanessa gave a small scream.

Cassie felt a sob rising, but pushed it down. Her world, this one by adoption rather than birth, was about to suffer the same fate as her birth world.

Memories of her home town filled with dead bodies assaulted her. Her parents were slumped on her home's bed, unmoving.

"No! No! No! No," she screamed, hammering the table over and over as she screamed, eyes blinded by tears and memories.

"Cassie! Stop it! Cassie!"

Cassie tried to shrug off the arms that suddenly wrapped around her from behind, but couldn't bring herself to enough coordination to break free. She swung her hands down again in frustration, fear, and anger, but nothing met them and she pitched forward.

She landed on something hard, and grunted further as something landed on top of her.

The impact jolted her from her uncontrolled rage and she gasped.

As she blinked her eyes she saw she was lying on half of the conference room table, now broken and lying on the floor, and Vanessa was lying on top of her.

She continued gulping in air, for a long moment as her senses slowly returned.

"Cassie? You okay? You're scaring me."

Vanessa's voice was wary.

Cassie could imagine.

Damn her sporadic telekinesis!

"Yeah. Sorry," she choked out. "You ok?"

"Yeah. Um, what the hell was that? Are y-"

Vanessa's voice cut off and Cassie could imagine the fear that must have cut off Vanessa's query. Aliens were trying to kill or enslave all of humanity, and with her _wildly_ horribly timed demonstration of her psychic power, Vanessa was probably now scared shitless of her.

"You're alien, right? Do the people here know?"

Vanessa's voice had dropped to a whisper.

Cassie couldn't speak. Vanessa's words echoed through her head. Their meaning clear, but she couldn't process.

Cassie finally shook herself.

"Yeah. They know. I'm definitely not Aschen."

"But you're human, or at least have the best disguise ever." Vanessa paused for the tiniest moment and then continued. "No, you're human."

Cassie's throat constricted again and she felt tears form. First the willingness to be on Cassie's side, even in their current situation, and now a solid conviction that Cassie was truly human in spite of the evidence that Cassie wasn't.

"I - I. Oh, screw security. I'm ... not from Earth. Biologically, I'm mostly human, I guess. It's, well."

Cassie tried to figure out where to start, but then gave up.

"Long story. I swear I will tell you everything even if you aren't read into the program. It's just, well, a long story."

Cassie felt Vanessa release her grip and get up. Cassie followed suit and turned to face Vanessa, still sitting on the flattened conference table.

"Sorry about the -", she gestured around the room. "It's spotty, and mostly uncontrolled. Stress tends to set me off. I'll tell you about my first kiss as a teenager some time."

"I'll bring the ice cream," Vanessa replied with a smile. "It'll be the craziest girls' night -"

She suddenly froze and her eyes went wide.

"Is Jon an alien too?"

Cassie sighed. "Um, no, he's … human," she slowly drew out. "But, he's not normal either. In fact he's way less normal than I am. I'll let him tell you."

"Cameron?"

Vanessa's voice was a squeak.

Cassie laughed. "He's straight human, but really, crazy awesome. As in literally saved-the-world awesome and fights evil aliens."

Vanessa's eyes were the size of saucers and Cassie laughed. "Yeah, our big spill the secrets girls' night is going to be epic. Heck, it's probably going to have to be a girls' week out."

The weight that had been crushing Cassie, the end of the world, had lifted though she could still feel its looming doom not far away.

"We'll need to survive this first, though. Can you take a rain check on the big disclosures?"

Vanessa closed her mouth and shook her head.

"Yeah, absolutely. Um, save the world first, I guess.

"My dad must know, right?"

"Yeah, he's in charge of a lot of this galaxy-wide stuff."

"Wow. Stick-up-his-butt 'ol dad. Boldly going where no man has gone before and all that stuff. Ok. Well, I guess you're right. Saving the world comes first, but … wow."

Cassie stood and helped Vanessa to her feet.

"Right, so I guess we have two problems, manufacturing and distribution. Our expertise has nothing to do with distribution, so I think we'll have to trust others to figure that part out. We'll work on figuring out how to make as much of the counter-virus as possible."

Cassie started giving Vanessa a summary of what they had so far as they returned to the lab. Vanessa still looked pale, but her eyes were shining with excitement and Cassie could feel some hope. She couldn't see a way out, but in spite of that, she felt hope. Just a glimmer.

* * *

**I'm not a virologist, I just play one on TV.**

**Yes, I know some of that is glossing over tons of stuff, but it's completely possible because Aschen can make super-viruses that don't work like regular viruses, and the Asgard equipment can do awesome stuff too, so if you're a real virologist, please don't flame me too badly!**

**The other part of writing this that was so hard - now that the main character is dead, it's really tough to re-build a reader's investment into new characters to keep readers engaged with the story.**

**Maybe I should keep Jon from dying? What do you think?**


	56. An Explosive Conclusion?

**A bedside recovery scene with Jon? Really scifigrocerygal? Do you not know me at all? What on earth makes you think I would let Jon recover with something so cushy as a bed? Pfft. Don't be silly!**

_**Might be nice for a change.**_

**Shut up, Jon. I'm writing the story. Just be happy they like you enough to want you alive.**

_**Yeah, yeah. Just get on with the story. I'm getting bored being unconscious.**_

**All right, all right. On with the story!**

* * *

Jon slowly realized he was alive. Voices were somewhere. Out there. Not him. Voices somewhere.

Pain was there too. That was good.

More sessions of torture than he could count had taught him that pain was a good thing when he was recovering, as much as he hated it. He almost looked back on his first tortures in his pre-Stargate days with amusement. He hadn't understood back then how good a thing pain was at the beginning. It was when you were recovering and couldn't feel your legs that you had to start worrying.

He hated it, wanted to avoid it if he could, but it was a good thing. It meant he was still alive.

Usually that was a good thing. Usually. Well, it seemed like there had been a time when he'd been dying a lot. That pain had been bad because it meant he was alive again.

That didn't make sense.

Why was he hurting this time?

Blackness threatened to swallow him up, but he pushed it back, focusing on the pain. Something was important.

What was important?

Cassie was important. Sam was important. Jack was … why was he thinking about himself in the third person?

No, wait. He wasn't Jack. He was Jon. No, he was Jack. No, he was Jon.

His self-identity slowly reformed in the noisy darkness.

Oh! Attacked! Aschen! Spaceship! That was what was important!

'_Crap! I need to make sure the grenades worked!_'

He worked on opening his eyes. A feat that seemed nearly impossible, though slowly cracks of light appeared in his vision.

Fuzziness. Figures clearing up. Doubles.

'_Shoot. Concussion. I hate concussions._'

He waited patiently as his brain slowly spun up to speed and his eyes eventually focused.

The sight that greeted him was enough to set him at ease. US military uniforms were moving around.

'_Thank God! It must have worked._'

With that reassurance, it was time to get back to work. Lying around was no fun. Hammond wouldn't yank his own chain, so it was up to Jack. Er, Jon.

Wait, not, he didn't work at Stargate. Well, not in the same way. George was retired, anyway.

Damned concussion..

He managed to open his eyes fully to see a bridge bustling with activity and noise.

It wasn't making sense to his befuddled mind, but it was reassuring to know.

He looked down at himself to see his jacket rolled up and an IV in his arm. Nothing unusual about that. He didn't recognize his uniform jacket, though. Oh well.

He slowly started flexing muscles, taking inventory. He even managed to turn his head, though that really hurt. Pain might be good, but why did it have to hurt so much!

He managed to roll over onto his IV-free arm and was waiting for the pain to subside enough for the next stage when a rough voice sounded next to him.

"Stop that! Lie back down; you aren't ready to be moving around."

"You aren't Janet, so you aren't the boss of me," Jon muttered and gave a small lunge so he was propped on his shoulder.

"Ha!"

A second voice sounded and this one Jon recognized.

"Let him be," he heard Jack order, and the hand that had just begun to pull on his shoulder left him.

"Sir, he has a concussion at the very least. Probably broken bones and possibly internal bleeding. The Aschen cloth protected him from a lot of damage, but he needs to be still. He could bleed out internally."

"Nope," Jon said. "It's all surface pain. Nothing inside. At least nothing serious."

"You can't possibly know -"

Jack's voice cut off the voice, this time with a firm note of command.

"Let him be. That's an order."

'_We do that pretty well,_' Jon thought. '_Good commanding voice there, ya' geezer._'

"Thanks, ya' little punk," Jack replied. "Maybe you'll be half as good some day."

Jon pushed up to a sitting position and slowly turned to see Jack staring at him, arms crossed. The glare was fierce, but Jon knew it wasn't serious. They didn't do that style of fierce if it was something truly serious.

"Oops, did I say that out loud? Gotta excuse me. I'm cussed. Ya' never know what's going to come out of my mouth when I'm cussed."

"Really? So what's your excuse the rest of the time?"

"Sir, I've got to protest," the medical officer said.

"Leave it." Jack and Jon spoke at the same time and then smirked together.

"So, what's up," Jon said as the medic gave up with a scowl and turned to check Jon's IV.

"We've retaken the ship. A bunch of systems are down, either from your grenades or from the Aschen poking around, trying to figure things out.

"Engines, comms, and shields are up, but weapons, teleportation, and a dozen other systems are still down. We're working on them.

"Aschen ships tried firing on us, but our shields weren't bothered much by their individual ships, and we are playing Keep Away so they can't gang up on us. We're a lot faster, but there are over a thousand of them and only one of us."

Jon could tell his brain was working on the problem, but was having trouble. He should understand a lot more about their options, but it was tantalizingly just out of reach.

"Ok. Um, how about the, um, sickness?"

He watched as Jack's face softened and glowed with pride.

"Cassie kicked its ass. We just got word an hour ago. The problem is that there's not enough cure to go around. Basically, the whole world is sick, and they can only make a handful of doses. We've gotten the first batches up here for some of our guys, but we've only had enough for a dozen of the Odyssey's people so far."

"How'd they get it up here," Jon asked. Belatedly, he realized it was a useless question, but it had popped out.

"Earth's teleporter still works. We synced up and got it teleported aboard.

"We're working on getting the ZPM set up down in Antarctica to power the Ancient defense system. Give us another hour and the Aschen won't be able to get their ships near Earth. We've been sending out calls to the Asgard but the response wouldn't have reached us yet, so we don't know if they're going to be able to help. Unless they happen to have ships in our area of the galaxy, they probably couldn't arrive -"

"Sir," a voice called out. "We're getting a transmission from the Aschen. Actually, all of Earth is getting it, too."

"Play it," Jack commanded.

"Earth, some of you have shown excellent sense, agreeing to work with us. We are preparing shipments of the cure as I speak. These will be delivered shortly.

"However, others of you have not agreed and continue to harm themselves and everyone living in their countries. If there is any resistance to our forces, we will be unable to provide sufficient assistance even to those who are already working with us. We leave it to you to convince your fellow men to begin working with us.

"Furthermore, any active hostilities will be met with immediate retaliation.

"We have to do nothing. We could leave now, and everyone would be dead within days. You have no other option than to accept our offer. All hostile military activities must be halted immediately or we will withdraw our aid."

The statement ended, and Jon frowned.

The Aschen certainly did have a dominant position at the moment, but he sure as hell wasn't going to give up, and Stargate Command had gotten out of tighter situations than this.

But, politicians?

That message was a pretty clever piece of work.

And hell, they did have a point. Without a mass-produced cure, the Aschen really could leave and just come back in a few days to an Earth that had nearly no one left alive.

He realized he was thinking at least a little bit more clearly. A defense plan was forming. Between the Ancient defense platform and the Odyssey, they could probably hold off just about any size fleet of Aschen, assuming they got the Odyssey's weapons back up and running.

However, that didn't do them much good without a cure.

Wait, cure. Something there was tickling his thoughts.

"We need to capture some of their cure," Jack's voice said. "Was any delivered to Earth already?"

"Not as of when we beamed up here," replied the technician.

"There could be no cure," Jack muttered. "Just a distraction."

Jon was following the same line of thinking, but had a different conclusion.

"No, I'm pretty sure they do have a cure of their own," Jon spoke up. "If they just wanted us dead, they'd be behaving very differently. They want at least a partially populated planet. So yeah, there's a cure somewhere."

Jon could see thoughts flashing through Jack's mind and then his older version nodded.

"Do we have tractor beams working? Can we catch one of them?"

"Yes, sir. Tractor beam is working. Catching them, though. Um, iffy, sir."

"Got it," Jack nodded. "Get me a display of ships. Let's find a likely candidate."

Jon grunted as he pushed himself up and fought the dizziness and nausea. This was Jack's play, and he might not be able to contribute much, but he wasn't about to sit around like a lump.

There were a dozen people in the bridge, most gathered around the bank of computers where Jon had dropped off his grenades. A few were working consoles elsewhere, and the medical officer was kneeling over several bodies in Aschen uniforms lying close to a wall.

Jack picked out a target, but the tractor beam officer shook his head, saying the ship was too large. Jon could follow Jack's logic in the selection and frowned in an identical scowl as the one on Jack's face. That would have been a great option - large enough to be a potential troop transport, and thus likely to be landing to make deliveries.

"There," Jack indicated another ship. "That type of ship is slower and less agile than most of the other ships. It might be a smaller troop lander, and it might even have less powerful engines and weapons than the rest of these yahoos trying to shoot us down."

"Yes, sir. I think we can handle that one, though it's the engines and weapons that make the tractoring more difficult."

"Understood. Do your best. Navigation, we're going to charge the highlighted ship and try to tractor him to us and we'll mount a boarding operation."

As Jack finished, the doors zipped open and the ship's captain walked in.

Jack nodded to the captain, "Welcome back to the land of the living."

Jon sat back as Jack and the ship's captain caught up. He could tell Jack's mind was working quickly on the issues at hand and he was feeling slow, coming to the same conclusions Jack was already putting into action.

If his concussion was slowing him down, it wasn't doing him any good to just follow Jack's thoughts.

'_Ok, he's handling the immediate concerns. What things might come at us sideways,_' Jon told himself, trying to shift his thoughts

He reviewed what he knew of them. The Aschen tended to enslave planets and put them to work as farmers, working them back to a lower level of technology over the course of generations. They tended toward cold rationality, though Jon felt that was a lot more wishful thinking on the Aschen's part than actual objective decision-making. They were highly structured. They were methodical and more risk-averse than humans from Earth.

'I guess they're not quite as bad as the Goa'uld, but only barely, and easily far enough to the bad-guy side of things that there's no way we'll be able to co-exist. They 've been planning this assault ever since their first attempt failed.'

Even before the Stargate had exploded into his life, Jon had come to dislike the idea of pre-emptive strike, though he grudgingly saw its necessity in extreme circumstances. At this point pre-emptive strikes weren't an issue, but he didn't think that this war would be stopped short of the Aschen being completely dismantled.

Until this had blown up, Jon would have said the only group of beings that were in his Only-Good-One-Is-A-Dead-One was the Goa'uld. The Aschen were trying hard to get on that list, though. He hoped it was just a leadership decision and that the entire race wasn't so far gone.

'_Surely they couldn't be! They are still humans complete with the crazy variety inherent in humans. The Goa'uld and their genetic memory craziness are a special -_'

Jon shook his head. His thoughts were wandering again.

Back to the Aschen.

If things began to go sour for the Aschen here, would they change their behavior.

Jack's attempt to capture a ship might convince them to change tactics, too. Especially if they began to worry that Earth might be able to create their own cure. The nightmare scenario for the Aschen would be an Earth that stopped the plague and were pissed off at the Aschen. If that happened, Earth might decide to return the attempted annihilation favor.

Jon's thoughts were interrupted by a small cheer. He glanced up to see Jack charging out the door yelling that he was going to get the boarding party ready.

Jon realized that concussion-addled brain had zoned out yet again for several minutes.

'_Dang it. Get your head together, man,_' he scolded himself.

He saw the screens showing a ship caught in the glow of the Odyssey's tractor beam. It occasionally swayed as its engines fired, trying to break loose, but the Asgardian tractor beam sufficient to continue drawing it in. Several shots splattered against the Odyssey's shields, but to no avail.

He watched as the ship was quickly pulled up to one of the Odyssey's docking bays. The captain listened in on his own channel to the progress of the assault, and after several minutes he relaxed.

"We got them," the captain announced. "We're going to - "

"Sir," one of the officers interrupted. "The Aschen are firing something weird. At Earth."

"Sir," another officer spoke up. "Transmission from the Aschen."

"First, what are they firing. What's 'weird' mean?"

"Missiles of some sort. Never seen them before. They're firing at Earth, though. Um … missiles. Um, lots of them."

"How long to their arrival? How many?"

"The missiles are still accelerating. We're not far from the moon, though. Um … at current acceleration without slowing down, it'll be an hour. They're still launching missiles. We're just over three thousand currently."

"What can we -" the captain began but the officer who had mentioned the Aschen's transmission broke in.

"Sir, you need to hear this now!"

Without waiting for approval, a video began playing on the screen, and the sinking feeling that had begun in Jon's stomach at the news of the missiles heading toward Earth intensified tenfold.

"You have chosen hostility and aggression. You have assaulted our ships and executed those who have crossed the stars to offer aid and friendship. You have forced us to retaliate or suffer additional losses. We will defend ourselves."

And that was it.

"Fuckers," Jon muttered. That the Aschen were doing stuff like this suggested some very scary underlying psychological profiles.

He'd gone through several psychology classes for electives while he'd been getting his masters degree; it had been before his split with Jack, but he remembered most of it. His experience with extremists had made the thought processes of those sorts of people a bit more real to him than most students. The Aschen statements were ringing dozens of warning bells.

"Sir," he said. "I have experience with the Aschen. They are trying to wipe out humanity on Earth. They've given up on a conquest option and are going with eradication.

"Whether those missiles are a super-virus, nuclear missiles, or Rods from God, they're intended to wipe out Earth, not just cripple our militaries."

The ship captain looked at Jon askance.

"I will pass that along to Earth. Comms put in a conference with Earth in the war room and have General O'Neill join me."

In the back of Jon's mind he realized he probably looked a mess and was wearing an enemy uniform, hardly a sight to inspire confidence. There wasn't much he could offer with his addled brain, but …

"Fine. Get Jack back here. He'll tell you the exact same thing. This isn't a strike to take out our military bases or anything like that - it's an all-life-on-earth ending strike. You've got to treat it that way!"

"Thank you. That will be all soldier," the Captain said in a tone that Jon knew meant he wasn't taking it seriously. Or at least, was taking it as merely another possibility to be considered. Jon could hear a call being put in for Jack, so it wouldn't take much longer for them to start acting properly.

Still. They needed to ...

Jon cursed his fuzzy head again. The ships might have more missiles if they went chasing down the individual missiles, and they'd likely be out of position to stop a second wave. Or if they went to stop the ships, that realistically meant destroying them, and even with the Odyssey's significant edge in firepower and shields, she couldn't take on a thousand-ish Aschen ships in the slugfest they would need to do to take the ships out quickly.

He pounded the console next to him in frustration. "There has to be an answer!"

"Excuse me?"

The technician sitting at the console was looking at him with irritation.

"Sorry," Jon told her. "Those missiles are intended to end Earth. We can work on taking out the missiles, or we can work on taking out the ships so they can't launch more missiles. We can't do both."

"As you say, sir," she said, still cautious about the man who was yelling and pounding on the console next to her. "We've just got teleportation working again, but we still can't be in two places at once. Sorry sir."

Something pinged in Jon's mind at that statement.

Two places at once. Teleportation.

His train of thought was interrupted by a flash of light filling the bridge. A second later, a figure was standing on the ship's bridge, clothed in a bulky flight suit and helmet. The person pulled off the helmet and shook loose a cloud of honey-brown hair.

Jon's mind threw aside the previous problem and he lunged forward towards her. The sudden movement triggered disorientation, but aside from a few staggered steps, he managed to cross the distance to her.

"Cassie!"

She spun to see him, her expression happy and then filled with alarm.

"Jon! Are you all right?"

"Ha! You should see the other guys!"

Cassie hugged him briefly and then pulled back, turning to the captain.

"Sir, I'm here to examine the captured Aschen ship. We've made some strides toward a cure on Earth, but we can't make enough fast enough. If we can pull apart an Aschen cure, we might be able to mass-produce it or duplicate it."

"How did you get here, Cas?"

Jon realized it was an unimportant question, but it had popped out before he'd realized it. Damn his broken brain-mouth filter. In spite of what everyone thought, he filtered out almost everything he wanted to say. The stuff he let out was just the best stuff that deserved to be heard by -

"Relayed teleportation," Cassie interrupted his rambling thoughts. "Earth teleported me halfway here and the Odyssey picked me up the rest of the way."

Jon stared at her for a second.

"The ship is this way," an officer told Cassie, and she squeezed Jon's hand before taking off at a jog.

His brain finally caught up with what had slowly been dawning on him.

"She teleported into naked space wearing regular clothes?"

The officer at the teleportation station seemed to take the question literally.

"Yes, sir. She was only in space for a couple second before we got her onboard. The hardest part was adjusting relative velocities. We needed to decelerate her to the Odyssey's frame of reference. That's actually the biggest limitation on the teleporters."

Jon leaned against the helm and shook his head. "I've been in space with a busted suit.," he said absently. "My arthritis killed me for weeks after that. And Cassie did it without any suit at all. Damn."

"Arthritis, sir? You have arthritis?"

Well, that had been before his split with Jack, so technically … eh, it was complicated. Time to divert the lieutenant. She seemed to be a techie sort of person. Best way to get a techie distracted was to -

"So, Lieutenant, what did you mean about the teleporters adjusting acceleration to match reference frames?"

"Oh! You see the total energy of a system includes its kinetic energy. The energy increases with velocity squared, and so we need to drain the energy from an object to match our frame of reference during teleportation. The crystals can absorb gigajoules from the object as it is being reformed. If we didn't have to do that, we could teleport objects between the Moon and Earth, no problem. As it is, we can only teleport tiny things that far unless we don't mind them smacking into the Moon's surface at several thousand kilometers per … sir? Sorry, sir. That's probably more information than you wanted."

Jon blinked. "No, not at all. Must be a techie thing."

"Yes … sir?"

"So we couldn't send her in one shot from Earth to here because we're … going too fast?"

"Basically, yes sir. The Odyssey is moving, relative to Earth, almost ten million kilometers per hour, sir. We actually had to make a whole series of teleports to slow her down enough to get her here. Earth handled most of them. Each teleport took about a quarter second, and they ran a series of teleports to speed her up and then we grabbed her and did the last couple teleports to precisely match velocities and brought her onboard. The flight suit has lots of insulation and the helmet was -"

Jon interrupted her. Normally he would have loved, or perhaps in this case _hated_ hearing about what Cassie had done, but he had a specific thought forming and he was afraid it was going to slip away.

"So, if we hadn't made all those teleports, we could have done it in one hop, but she'd be moving millions of klicks per hour when she arrived."

"Yes sir. At those speeds, it would have been like a nuclear bomb going off in here."

Jon suddenly stood up, from where he was leaning against her console.

"How quickly can we teleport things if we don't need to drain the kinetic energy?"

"Depends on size and distance, sir."

"A missile size. Teleporting one of those missiles heading toward Earth back here?"

"Um, just a second, sir."

The woman started typing at her keyboard, and Jon started working through his plan. He wasn't entirely certain this wasn't a concussion-screwed plan, but he'd developed quite a few plans while concussed during his career. He rated his current concussion around a four out of ten. Enough to leave him a bit slow and prone to mental rabbit trails, but not so bad to leave him completely loopy. Some of his best ideas had come during concussions! Teal'c and the goat creature on P3X-4018 had been spawned during a concussion that had been at least a three!

"We can get around two per second at the moment, sir."

Jon winced. "Damn rabbit trails."

"Sir? I said we could probably do around two per second right now."

"Two per second? How many missile are there?"

"They stopped firing a minute ago. Forty-eight thousand, sir. They … I think you're right that they're going for …"

The lieutenant trailed off. Jon glanced down at her to see her biting her lip, her fists curled tight, knuckles white.

"Hey, don't worry. We've been in lots more dangerous situations than this, Lieutenant. In fact, I'm pretty sure you've just saved the world!"

"Sir?"

"You keep saying that. 'Sir?' Am I really that hard to follow?"

"Sir? I mean, no sir. I mean - "

"Don't worry about it Lieutenant. You just saved the world. I'll let you off the hook this time."

"S-, I mean, yes sir," she said. The tone suggested she wasn't quite sure of his sanity.

Jon was used to it.

"Captain! Get me Jack on comms! Now!"

"Son, I realize you're -"

"Captain!" Jon didn't have time for this. He'd break this little Captain down to airman if he kept slowing things down. He straightened and his voice snapped out. "I am Major Jonathan O'Neill, operating on General Jack _O'Neill_'s specific orders here. You will get me on the line with Jack right now. If you don't, _General_ O'Neill will bust you down to Airman and station you with the goddamn Army!"

The Captain's shoulders had squared to attention at Jon's voice. He opened his mouth to speak on reflex before his mind caught up. He paused, considered for a second, and then turned to an officer.

"Lieutenant, get General O'Neill on the line. We'll clear it up with him."

"What's up, Captain?"

"There's a Major Jon O'Neill here who says he needs to speak with you."

"Jon? Go ahead."

"Jack, I know how to stop those missiles and probably take out the Aschen in one go."

"Do it. Captain, I'm placing Jon in temporary tactical command."

Several distinctive buzzing sounds sounded through the speakers and a shout sounded in the background.

"Gotta go," Jack said and the line was cut off.

The captain looked stunned. Jon could commiserate. This was wildly outside standard chain of command.

"Sir, we can teleport those missiles. Earth can teleport those missiles."

The captain might have been a bit more process-oriented than Jon and Jack, but he was recovering quickly. "We can teleport them off course!"

Jon nodded. "That's the right line of thinking, but we can do one better. We can teleport them into position to hit the Aschen ships."

He could see the wheels spinning behind the Captain's eyes. It only took a second. Jon saw the acknowledgement dawn, and began snapping out orders before the Captain could speak.

"Teleportation - start preparing to teleport the missiles.

"Weapons - feed telemetry to teleportation.

"Comms - get on the horn with Earth and tell them our plan. If they can't teleport all the way to the Aschen ships, they can at least teleport missiles off course. At the very least, teleport them further away to give us more time."

"Teleportation - prioritize to teleport missiles to hit ships as quickly as possible. The closest missiles and ships should be the fastest to teleport."

The captain added his order. "Navigation - stop dodging the Aschen. Shortest route to get between the bulk of missiles and the Aschen ships! Get us closer to both so we can teleport the missiles more quickly!

"Shields - prepare for increased attacks. Ready emergency power if needed."

The bridge burst into a cacophony as stations began working to follow the sudden burst of orders.

Jon dragged his IV across the bridge to the weapons area. Multiple screens were covered with various sensor readouts. He couldn't even guess at the number of ships in total, but at least high hundreds, each with tiny sets of numbers and text giving data about the bogies.

It took him a few seconds to work out the codes but his years-old memories helped.

"That one," he pointed to a screen showing a heavy sprinkling of annotated dots. "That's one of their command ships. I remember seeing that type of ship when we visited their planet years ago."

The technician highlighted the ship.

"And that one, that one, and …" he searched the screens, looking for more of the telltale signs. "There and there."

"Target those first."

"Yes sir," the man replied. "We're also skipping the fighters. These," he highlighted a different, more numerous collection of ships. "Are their carrier analogues. Those are our main targets. Well, secondary now. These," and yet another collection of ships were highlighted, "we don't know, but there are a lot of them. Should we target them?"

Jon read the stats and tried to visualize what they meant in practical terms.

"Visuals of those?"

"Yes sir." A picture appeared on the screen. "They do have some armaments and have taken some potshots at us if we get close enough, but for the most part they're just sitting there. Half the fleet."

The picture wasn't immediately recognizable, but the styles of weapons blisters and the shape … "Transports. Not a threat. Put those at the bottom of the priority list."

"Yes sir."

"Teleporters configured and ready," the woman called from across the bridge.

"Sending targeting list and priority," the man beside Jon called out.

Weapons had the best screens, Jon decided. The technicians had split up screens to show the command ships visually while also showing the screens of icons. The icons of the cloud of missiles, so densely depicted that the icons were just a giant, red blob, began to flash along the 'rear' edge of the missile cloud closest to the Odyssey.

Almost instantly, the screens showing the command ships suddenly lit up.

Massive explosions wreathed the ships as missiles began slamming into the Aschen shields, actinic light flaring against the perfect black backdrop of space.

The ships began to jerk and weave in evasive maneuvers. Jon could see missiles begin missing the ships, but not all.

The shields held up for long seconds and Jon quickly lost track of how many missiles had hit each ship, but it had to be scores. How tough were their shields? How -

One of the ships suddenly showed a different set of explosions as one of the missiles impacted the ship itself. The ship wasn't immediately destroyed, but it stopped its evasive maneuvers and missiles stopped missing. Its shields held out for another fifteen seconds - a half dozen more missiles hitting its shields in brilliant flares of light - before a second missile made it through its shields. Then another, and another.

The ship blew up in a massive ball of flame.

A quick cheer flashed across the bridge.

The remaining four ships began receiving even more missile strikes as the teleported missiles that had been targeting the destroyed ship were now allocated to the remaining ships.

Another command ship was destroyed a minute later.

Several nearby transports came to help defend, and added their lasers to the defensive fire trying to destroy the missiles before they hit. Two of the transports got too close and began getting hit with missiles. Their shields absorbed a few missiles each before failing and seconds later the transports blew up.

Then a third command ship's shields failed. The remaining two transports drove in to provide cover for the damaged command ship, but were battered down in seconds, and then the third command ship joined them as expanding balls of flaming gas and debris.

Aschen fighters suddenly appeared on the screen, surrounding the remaining two command ship. John glanced down at the tactical screen and saw that the entire collection of Aschen fighters had been shifted to provide cover for the remaining ships. Long streams of small red icons were flowing across the screens to converge around the beleaguered ships.

They were providing a virtual wall of protection to the larger ships, sacrificing themselves to block the incoming missiles. The transport vessels didn't seem to be fast enough to catch up with the fleeing command ships, but the fighters were.

"They're fleeing," Jon called out.

The captain joined him. "Those fighters, they're not just coming to cover the command ships, they're also arranging themselves along a line away from Earth. The only reason they would be doing that is if the command ships are fleeing. The fighters are positioning themselves along their flight path to provide cover."

The two command ships were all but invisible to the Odyssey's sensors now. Scores of fighters were blanketed along the side of each capital ships, blocking the incoming missiles with their own ships. Explosions still rent the black of space, but they were now exploding among the shield of fighters flying in tight formation along with the command ship.

"Damn, that was quick thinking," the Captain muttered. "Ballsy."

Jon agreed.

"Status on the Odyssey's weapons?"

"Still another thirty minutes, at least," a voice replied.

Jon frowned and stared at the tactical screens. It was a victory to drive them off, but he had hoped to defeat them without allowing an escape. Being able to force them to counteract their super-virus had been something he'd been hoping. The screens showed them to have a clear shot at escape.

Something else on the screens caught his attention.

"Captain, look at this."

Not all the ships were fleeing. The transport ships were all scattering away from Earth, the two command ships were being shielded by fighters on their way away from Earth, but nearly twenty carrier ships were heading directly toward Earth, accelerating hard enough that they were catching up to the missiles that had been launched, accelerated for several minutes, and then left to fly on ballistic courses toward Earth.

"Any ideas on this," the captain asked. "You've had actual experience with them."

Jon didn't like it.

"They're a race that prides itself on 'logical' thinking and subsuming the individual to the good of the whole. I don't know for certain, but suicide runs aren't out of the question. We're destroying their fighters by the dozens, now, and those carriers aren't needed to carry. Maybe they're going to provide support to the missiles somehow, but kamikaze runs are possible."

"I see. Not a problem."

Jon looked up in surprise.

"Earth has its Antarctica defenses up and running. Ancient defenses will rip the ships apart long before they can do anything. There aren't enough Ancient defensive missiles to stop all those Aschen missiles, not by a long shot, but the ships aren't a danger to Earth."

Jon felt his insides unclench a little.

"Good. I wouldn't mind a few of those little glowing … "

Jon and the Captain stared at each other, the idea going off at the same time.

"Comms, call Earth!"

Five minutes later Jon watched a separate set of icons appear on the screen. These were yellow and raced out from Earth. Five seconds later they disappeared and reappeared just outside the cloud of fighters covering the fleeing command ships.

The command ships' path through space was littered with wrecks and still-burning gasses leaking from destroyed ships. Their cloud of cover ships had thickened in spite of the terrible toll the teleported missiles were inflicting. The ships at the heart of the clouds of fighters weren't even occasionally visible any more as hundreds of fighters paced alongside in ever-shifting flows of spaceships. Explosions still rocked the ships, but the grisly price inflicted by the missiles wasn't going to be enough to stop them.

The golden Ancient missiles were entirely different.

A dozen streaked toward the first cloud of fighters, and then with speed and precision that made the Aschen vessels look like they were standing still, the tiny, golden weapons darted between the fighters and disappeared into the churning depths of spaceships.

Moments later an explosion blew apart the cloud of fighters as the command ship at its core was ripped apart by weapons capable of blowing through even Asgardian shields.

In spite of the destruction, the remaining Aschen ships continued on without pause; no sudden calls for surrender or signs of standing down their weapons. In fact, lasers began flashing toward the Odyssey from the remaining churning clouds of fighters. They were relatively weak lasers, and far too distant to pose a threat, but it was enough to stress the shields a little. Eventually it would wear the shields down … eventually. Maybe? It was desperation, but not despair.

Minutes passed and a second collection of yellow lights flashed out from Earth and appeared outside the second command ship's shield of fighters.

The Aschen were prepared for these and space was filled with thousands upon thousands of of lasers as the fighters shifted all their fire onto the Ancient missiles.

To no avail.

The weapons repeated their effortless penetration of everything the Aschen could throw at them, and pierced through the hordes of fighters.

There was no repeat explosion, though.

"Weapons are deployed, Captain," one of the technicians called out.

Jon stepped aside as the Captain stepped forward.

"This is Captain Ethan Arnaught of the Odyssey, calling for the commander of the Aschen forces currently fleeing Earth's space. Respond or I will commence destruction of all Aschen forces, starting with the remaining command ship."

Time ticked by without response and the captain repeated his message.

He was about to repeat his message when the door to the bridge hissed open.

Jack staggered through the door.

Jon grabbed his IV pole and darted forward, looping his arm around his older version's waist.

"One of their damned stun rays nearly got me. Cassie's pulling apart their machines now, seeing if we can use them to crank out more cure."

Jon nodded and supported Jack as across the bridge toward the captain.

"Let me speak, Captain," Jack croaked out. "Better do audio-only. I don't make the most impressive picture at the moment."

The captain stepped aside and Jack sat down in the captain's chair with a groan. When he spoke, though, there was no hint of discomfort.

"This is General Jack O'Neill, supreme commander of Earth's military. The Aschen commander will immediately halt all Aschen spacecraft and surrender. If this is not done within one minute, all Aschen forces around Earth will be destroyed."

Jon could hear the strain in Jack's voice, but he had special insight. The words snapped through the air and Jon saw several of the crewmen suddenly sit at attention.

There was no response.

"If there is no response, I will destroy all Aschen forces and then proceed to destroy the Aschen homeworld sun. The continued existence of all Aschen depends on your surrender."

Seconds stretched out and then the comms crackled. A calm voice responded.

"General Jack O'Neill, this is Commander Elder Deellor of the Aschen People."

Even over a comms system, Jon could heard the capital 'P' in people.

"Arrogant bastards," he muttered under his breath and felt Jack chuckle.

"I am authorized to treat with others. What terms do you wish?"

"No terms. Total surrender. You provide all support to immediately end the plague you have set loose on Earth."

"The Aschen are willing to discuss -"

"You don't understand," Jack snapped. "The only terms are these - you will surrender and immediately end the plague. If you do not, I will destroy the Aschen homeworld star and every other star around which Aschen live. I will wipe out all Aschen, everywhere, if you do not immediately surrender and end the plague you have sent."

There was a long pause.

"If you delay I will order the destruction to commence. This was never a war the Aschen could have won. We have distributed forces across the galaxy. Multiple locations have the capability to trigger an instant supernova in the Aschen sun from where they are. Even if everyone on Earth were to die, the Aschen will still be destroyed.

"The only way for the Aschen people to survive is for Earth to be immediately cured of this plague."

There was only a brief pause before the commander's voice returned.

"Understood. I then take the only choice possible for the continued protection of the People."

Jon's stomach clenched.

'_They aren't suicidal, just fanatic. Dear God, please -_'

"I officially surrender my forces to you and will provide all available resources to stopping the plague."

"A wise decision," Jack said. "Immediately move all ships to a geosynchronous orbit over the Atlantic Ocean and power down to minimal power necessary for life support. I will contact you soon with further instructions."

Jon let loose his held breath along with everyone else on the bridge.

They'd done it.

* * *

**Whew! Earth is saved. End of story. So glad nothing else could go wrong.**

_**Stuff it, Author. No one believes you any more.**_

**You don't know that, Jon! Maybe some of the readers are really gullible!**

_**No one is **_**that****_ gullible._**

**Yeah, yeah, it's my story though. I'll end it how I want, so there. *sticks out tongue***

**_God save me. My Author isn't any more mature than I am. But, hey, thanks for the ending you've written for me. I really appreciate that you -_**

**Ah! Shut up Jon! Shut it! Zip! No spoilers!**

**_Ha! Just letting the readers know that I like 'em even if the Author is a jerk who isn't nearly as funny as he thinks he is. Don't worry, y'all. We are getting close to the end, but we aren't there yet. We still need to -_**

**Ah! That's it! I'm cutting this off now! Quiet! No Spoilers!**


	57. Red Goo

**Of course it can't just be that simple. Life isn't that simple.**

**And ... squeee! Nightwithmoon, you have just triggered one of my obsessions! I'll stick it at the end of this chapter, but ... yay! Technology spread and realism talk! Wheee!**

* * *

Cassie wished she could somehow clone herself a few dozen times over to watch over everything around her.

Earth had provisionally won - the entire Aschen fleet was densely parked in orbit over Earth with hundreds of the Ancient weapons scattered throughout their midst, ready to wipe them out at a moment's notice if they attempted anything hostile. She'd been ensconced in the Aschen ship they'd captured and subdued with the Odyssey, studying its machinery. It looked like it would be Earth's salvation.

The Aschen had tons of automated machinery that did genetic manipulation at a level and - more importantly at this point - a quantity Earth just couldn't match, even with their Asgard items.

No, dropping thousands of missiles down on Earth to quickly wipe out the planet wasn't the danger. Now, all the Aschen needed to do was delay things and billions on Earth would die. She hoped they had fully bought Uncle Jack's story that the Aschen would be wiped out if they didn't fully cooperate. She also wondered if it truly was _just_ a story or if he could and would actually carry through on the threat.

She took a glance over to where Jon was standing with a dozen other soldiers gathered around the Aschen's commander. They had transported the senior commanders and the command ship's "casket" to a large cavern just down a few halls from the labs in Cheyenne Mountain. The casket was mass-production machine the Aschen commander had said could quickly produce the altered viruses. Nearly the size of a tractor trailer, it sat next to her with three Aschen technicians working on it.

Six hours after the surrender, she was here - she returned her focus to the Aschen workers before her - to see that they were properly setting up the machines. Tubes led from the mountain's water pipes to feed the machine liquid. Several large vats were being filled with blended foodstuff from the mountain, frantically blended together with just enough water to let it flow into the intake valve on the Aschen machine - that would be the raw materials the Aschen assured them would be converted by the machine into nearly any cellular material from human organs to novel viruses.

It had at first seemed an impossible challenge to produce the virus on the Aschen ships. Gathering sufficient raw materials onto the Aschen ship was a logistical nightmare that had seemed about to sink their hopes until Jon and Jack had almost simultaneously gotten an odd look on their face and started speaking over each other, asking if the machinery could be teleported to the Cheyenne Mountain facility where there was far more room and bulk logistics was easier.

"We are ready for the culture sample," the Aschen man told her.

She opened her cooler and handed the vial of fluid to the man.

"We took the virus you let loose on Earth and adjusted the protein package so the lytic cycle in Earth human cells matched that of Aschen cells. It creates the dissolution sugars in Earth humans just like it did in Aschen cells."

The man wrinkled his brow in thought. "I'm not familiar with some of your terms, but I think your meaning is clear enough. Our cure is roughly similar, though it does not allow creation of further viruses to spread the cure - it only produces the, um, dissolution sugars. We did not want the cure to spread on Earth."

Cassie shuddered at his casual statement. There had been a few moments like this where small phrases had shown a disregard for Earth humans that Cassie found to be nearly psychopathic in its coldness.

"Well, we do want it to spread. We need this duplicated, as much of it as possible as quickly as possible. Sufficient production of the cure in time is our difficulty."

"I will begin immediately," the man said and began calmly preparing the machine, apparently unimpressed by her urgent words. Cassie held her temper. He didn't seem to be working slowly. He just didn't seem to be stressed.

"If this is not done quickly enough, the Aschen homeworld will be destroyed, do you understand that?"

The words slipped out in frustration.

"I - I did not. The captain merely ordered me to provide assistance."

She looked at him in surprise. Their captain hadn't told them why they were doing this? Just given an order?

"If this plague kills too many people of Earth, Earth is going to retaliate by destroying Aschen by making their sun go instantly supernova. Now, is there any way this can be sped up?"

She was gratified to see a better reaction and some thought being put into the problem by the man.

"I think … there are other Ellisoll Caskets which can be put into production. The other ships' caskets are smaller, but put together, they will significantly increase our production."

"Jon," she yelled over, catching his attention. "They have more of these machines that can create the cure. We need to put them all into use!"

Jon waved his acknowledgement and turned to the Aschen commander.

"Do what you can to get the necessary samples ready to send to the other caskets," Cassie ordered. The technician nodded and began working on the machine, this time with urgency.

"How much of your type of cure do you have on hand?"

"Eighty-five mots."

"I don't know what 'mots' are. How many doses, and how are the doses administered?"

"A mot has ten thousand doses - eight hundred fifty thousand doses."

"That's all?" Cassie shouldn't have been surprised, but she was. Earth had over seven billion people on it, and they had only planned on saving less than a million?

"Combined with whatever portion of the population that was naturally immune to the virus, that was deemed a sufficient number for proper control and reeducation. The population would be culled down to just those with desirable traits before being allowed to grow back to a few hundred million once proper controls were established."

The technician explained it to her as if describing how he would work on a bacterial culture in a petri dish; he didn't even look up from his insertion of the culture Cassie had given him.

Cassie closed her eyes and gritted her teeth. Visions of ripping him into bloody shreds flowed through her mind as she heard his casual discussion of murdering billions of people before turning the selected survivors into little more than intelligent beasts of burden.

She opened her eyes and glared at the empty bio-cooler at her feet.

It instantly crumpled in on itself, the hard plastic and insulation ripping as it collapsed into a small ball.

Weeks ago that would have scared her, but at the moment she didn't care. The Aschen were wiping out a world with no more compunction than the Goa'uld. Possibly losing control of her power and crushing a few Aschen? The galaxy would be better off for it.

The viciousness of her own thoughts surprised her and she took deep breaths, slowing her racing heart and gathering her emotions back under control. Slowly, the cooler popped and shifted as her telekinesis released its hold.

"Earth needs these people alive to produce the cure virus. This isn't the best way to respond," she reminded herself. "As good as it might feel."

Several flashes caught her vision and reminded her that she was supposed to be making sure the Aschen were doing what they were supposed to be doing. She couldn't do that staring at the mangled cooler.

She looked up and saw several more machines with Aschen technicians standing next to them where the flashes of light had gone off. The Odyssey must have teleported them down. Their machines were much smaller than the command ship's machine, but she could see similar functionality.

"Jon," she called again. She waved him over when he looked up. He jogged over.

"I think we're almost ready to start production on this machine. It will still take a bit of time, though. This guy," the pointed her thumb at the Aschen technician with whom she had been talking, "said they have around 850,000 of their own cures already ready.

"It's barely a drop in the bucket for everything we need, but we could start getting it distributed immediately. It doesn't spread like our version, but it's better than nothing."

Jon nodded. "We have the scanners already building a distribution system that will be fed into the teleporters. When the various national representatives started arguing about the distribution order and it began to cause a problem, Jack instituted a randomized distribution."

Cassie frowned. "But that's going to slow down everything. We need to target dense urban areas so the cure will begin to spread as quickly as possible on its own once the initial recipients begin to recover!"

Jon held up his hands. "Political decision. In practical terms, that would save the most people, but it means Africa, South America, Russia, China, and Australia will lose more people than more densely populated countries before we get down to the small towns that hold most of their population. There were threats of war beginning to be made. Jack made the call and it keeps people from fighting and causing even more people to die."

Cassie winced. "Ok, I … guess I can see that. All right. Not my decision."

Jon grabbed her hands and she sighed as his warm hands engulfed her own. She loved the sight and feel of his hands holding hers. She wasn't alone in this.

"I see the Aschen must have gotten to you," Jon said softly and nudged the mangled cooler with his toe. "We've had to physically restrain people twice from attacking the Aschen commander as we were talking. They're just so damned casual about it."

Cassie snorted, still looking at their hands tangled together, taking comfort from the sight. "Yeah. The 850,000 doses they have - that's all of humanity they planned to save, and they were going to cull us down from there to get rid of any undesirables in the population."

Jon's grip tightened on her hands before loosening. She heard him let out a breath.

"Yup, stuff like that - said casual as you please."

She nodded.

"Okay," he said and let go. She looked up at him and his eyes were hard. "I'll go get the distribution of at least their version of the cure started until our virus is being made in quantity. Keep on top of them. They're so casual about this that they don't seem to be hurrying much, though they don't seem to be resisting once their commander gives them an order."

"Good luck, Jon. We've … mostly got this won. It's now down to saving as many people as possible, but Earth has been saved. You've done that."

Jon chuckled. "Perhaps not the most inspirational speech I've ever heard, but yeah. Thanks for the reminder. I needed it. Don't discount yourself, though. Right now, you're the one saving the world, not me. Don't give up."

Cassie watched as he jogged back toward Jack and the others.

She wanted so much more than just holding his hands. While they were on official business, and such serious danger, she wasn't about to turn into a clingy little girl, but … it had been an unending emergency for what seemed like forever, and a nice, long hug sounded like heaven.

She squared her shoulders and turned back toward the technician fiddling with the controls.

"So, this will turn the raw materials into the virus, right?"

"Yes," the man responded. The other two technicians didn't seem to be hurrying any, and Cassie considered passing along the threat to them.

"In fact … there."

The machine began to hum as the sludge of foodstuff began to flow in through the intake pipes.

"This screen here," he gestured to one of dozens of screens along the side of the casket, "gives the percentage of intake material that can be converted. Concentration. Growth rate. Culture temperatures."

Cassie followed along as he began explaining the process. It was generally familiar to her from her previous study of the machines, and it looked as if the man had genuinely set up the output to duplicate Earth's modified virus. She watched one of the quality screens and examined every detail of the virus being created. It would only take a subtle change to render the virus inoperable and completely screw over Earth, but ….

After several minutes of going through screens on the Aschen machine and comparing to the formulas and notes she had on her tablet, she nodded to the technician.

"It looks good. Have the other machines begin the process as well."

"At once," he said and turned to the others passing on the orders.

Cassie gazed at the output pipes that were now pouring out a massive flow of vaguely yellowish liquid. It was still ten thousand times more concentrated than it would need to be for distribution, but the receiving vat fifty feet away was mixing in massive streams of water to form the final viral solution to fix things.

She shook her head in a small feeling of awe. The Aschen had developed an amazing level of biological technology - the virus was stable over a huge range of temperatures and environments compared to things like Earth's weaponized biological weapons. Those were scary, but these Aschen 'viruses' were … a whole different level.

She went back to the screens and began double checking, pulling up one of the smaller machines and checking it as well, folding its results into her overall calculations. She called over a couple soldiers and began to relay more commands, tweaking the inputs and outputs for that machine as well, to get it optimally configured as soon as it came online.

She turned back to the main machine and started pouring over it again to double check its settings and results. Back to the smaller machine.

She was lost in diagnostic screens when Jon's voice came from beside her. "We're getting the other machines into production now."

"Already?"

Cassie looked up in surprise and glanced around the massive cavern to see scores of the smaller machines hooked up to more vats of blended foodstuffs and water pipes. Pipes and wires snaked across the room in massive mazes, hooking up water and electricity to the caskets and blending even more water to their outputs. Hundreds of soldiers were buzzing all over the room, filling it with a hum not unlike a beehive.

"Already," Jon said with a note of surprise in his voice. "It's taken nearly two hours to get everything set up."

Cassie glanced at her tablet and noticed the time with surprise. She had been thoroughly engrossed.

"We don't have nearly enough people, and most of the people who hooked up the water and electricity are just grunts following orders of the actual facilities people. We've had three people sent to the docs when live wires got exposed to a pipe spraying water!"

Jon puffed out his cheeks.

"But, yeah, I guess even a couple hours is a miracle."

"We have good people here," Cassie smiled. "SGC is the best."

"And we have you here, and you're the best," Jon smiled, bumping her shoulder lightly with his own.

"I think we're going to actually do this," Cassie said. Even as she said it, the relief washed over her. "This one, by itself creates nearly ten pounds of pure viral mass each hour. That's … absolutely insane."

"If you say so," Jon replied. "Ten pounds an hour doesn't sound like much when you're trying to make seven billion doses."

Cassie snorted. "It gets mixed with water until it's only one part per hundred thousand by mass. Once it's diluted, it winds up as nearly a million pounds, and we need barely a tenth of an an ounce per dose. This machine is making nearly ten million doses per hour."

Jon's eyes were wide.

She continued. Just being able to say it out loud was building her confidence. "The other machines put together make nearly as much as this one. Altogether, after blending, we're putting out nineteen million doses per hour. Four hundred fifty million doses per day."

She shook her head, the output absolutely flooring her. "I'm used to thinking on the scale of a few hundred doses being made per day. Once the medical industries used to get involved, we might have been making a few tens of thousands of doses per day. Hundreds of millions per day from a single machine is ludicrous by our standards.

"But even a half billion doses per day wouldn't be enough, but after twenty four hours, contagion will set in as the primary spread of the cure as those 'infected' with the new virus spread it naturally to others. Three or four days at the most and we'll have cured the entire Earth! I didn't think it was really possible, but we've done it."

She turned to Jon and suddenly couldn't contain the relief and joy any more.

"We've done it!"

She grabbed him in a hug, squealing and jumping.

"We did it! We actually did it!"

She didn't care about propriety at this point. Earth wasn't going to die! They'd saved Earth!

She felt Jon's arms wrap her up and she was suddenly being swung around and around. His laughter filled her ears.

"No one beats Earth! No one! We never give up!"

Cassie couldn't agree more. "Never," she shouted!

The world spun to a stop and Jon's lips met her own, and she responded wildly, tongues thrusting and dancing in delight.

She looked up at him when they finally came up for air and she knew the grin on his face was mirrored on her own.

"Jon, I love you! Will you m- "

Crackles filled the air, and the hum of the large machine next to them suddenly cut off.

She pushed back from Jon's grasp in confusion. The rest of the cavern was quiet for a moment as everyone looked about them in puzzlement.

A voice shouted out. The cavern was huge, but the man's shout was heard easily in the sudden quiet.

"The good of the People! No one of you or group of you is more important than the whole! You may all be cowards, but we will stand for our People!"

Two hundred feet away, four men stood on top of a couple of the machines. Dressed like all the other technicians, each held one of the Aschen ray guns. One of them fired another burst at the giant circuit closet where massive snakes of electrical wires lead from the SGC's electrical system out to the scores of machines scattered around the cavern. It was still sparking with electricity spewed out a fresh shower of sparks.

"What have you done? Stand down at once! That is an order," the Aschen captain shouted.

His voice was met with another crackle of shots and he fell in a heap, the people around him diving out of the way.

"That coward," the lead speaker shouted out. "He surrendered to these ignorant primitives! Cowardly placing his own life above the good of the People!"

The Aschen technician Cassie had first worked with was nearby and she heard him groan. "He doesn't know! He's killing the People!"

Scores of rifles and guns could be heard rattling throughout the cavern as hundreds of Earth soldiers pulled their weapons and aimed it at the men.

"Step down," Cassie heard Jack call out. "If you don't, then we will destroy the Aschen sun! Your captain knew we -"

The speaker laughed. "Do you take us for fools? If Deellor fell for such a ridiculous story, then he was stupider than I ever imagined."

"Fine," Jack returned. "Step down, and you'll get to live. We can fix the electricity. You've done nothing more than barely slow this! Step down now or we'll open fire!"

Cassie shook her head. An Aschen expert with one of these machines available for a couple hours? What if he had started even before they'd brought the machine down, and this was just a better opportunity for the man? Who knew what sort of horror he could have cooked up in that time?

She began creeping forward, trying to stay out of the speaker's way. He seemed to be focused on Jack. She wasn't sure what she could do, but she was going to be prepared to do anything she could.

"You're an ignorant primitive, just like the rest of your planet," the man shouted out and then turned to face the rest of the cavern. Cassie ducked down and began crawl.

"It's too late for this planet. Unlike all you protoplasmic worms, _we_ are not afraid to serve Aschen with our lives! We've been producing weaponized Beltar's disease since we've arrived!"

He held one of the Aschen computer tablets up in one hand, dropping his rifle and raising his other hand to the tablet.

Cassie had no idea what that was, but an Aschen a few feet away gasped and began crawling away.

A shot fired - it sounded like it was from Jack's direction - and the room erupted into gunfire.

The leader's head exploded in a red mist from the first shot. Cassie saw the others begin to dive to the ground as the rest of the guns opened up. As the speaker fell his lab coat fell open and Cassie saw a black box on his chest flash red.

Her stomach sunk. They had obviously planned ahead and weren't afraid to die. So - suicide switch.

A loud 'poomph' sounded over the gunfire and a cloud of red vapor exploded out from the two machines one which the men had been standing.

Several Aschen had been less than twenty feet away from the machines. They had hugged the ground as the gunfire started, but as soon as the clouds burst out, they scrambled to their feet.

They were too late and slow.

They barely made it a step before the cloud touched them and they screamed in agony falling to the ground. Cassie watched in horror through the spreading cloud as their bodies spasmed and then seemed to come to a boil - their flesh bubbling and bursting into red spray before becoming a red mist within a second that then blended with the rest of the red cloud.

"No!"

The scream clawed from her throat.

They had been so close!

"No!"

The visions of Earth overcome by a disease flooded back over her.

"No-o-o-o-o-o-o!"

She wasn't about to give up. Even as the cloud spread out in a malevolent flow of fog and caught more people in its grasp.

She shoved her arms forward and a blazing white pain speared through her skull.

Everything in front of her was suddenly slammed backwards - bodies and machines went flying backwards.

The cloud too rushed backwards, swirling through the air. The red fog made small vortexes around the edges of her telekinetic push, escaping outward from her thrust.

"No!"

Cassie gestured with her hands at the swirling cloud and clawed. The escaping whirls of fog were pressed back in with the rest of the mass which slammed into the side of the cavern.

Dozens of people were caught in the fog and in Cassie's mental barriers. Their bodies bubbled and burst in red sprays. Red clouds poured from them and joined the rest of the cloud. The red cloud was now spreading along the edges of the wall, leaking out from her mental control.

Lightning seemed to lance through her mind and Cassie stumbled. Strong arms caught her from behind.

"Cassie! You can do it! Don't give up!"

Jon's voice was faint in the roar of her mind, but his presence was felt and she clawed her fingers again. Her mind stretched out to the edges of that control where the clouds were trying to leak out and grasped onto the air itself.

Something snapped and her vision went white as her universe dissolved in pain but Cassie refused to give in. Her mind continued to press inward with everything she had already grasped, catching it all and pressing it together.

No. Escape. Nothing. Escapes.

She couldn't see it through the pain, but somehow she knew what she was grabbing and held onto it.

Every particle of dust. Every molecule of air. Every drop of fluid.

Nothing. Escapes.

Sounds echoed outside her universe.

Meaningless.

Nothing. Escapes.

Earth. Lives.

Time stretched to infinity as her every sense was subsumed into pain until even the pain began to lose meaning. Cassie could almost feel herself drifting away. Dissolving into nothingness as she poured everything she had - holding nothing back - to save Earth.

To save Jon.

And then her universe disappeared.

* * *

**Is anyone going to believe me if I say Cassie is permanently toast? No? Ok, I won't bother.**

**So - technology in the world. The Aschen have their floating ships, but the show never showed any space ships for them. They aren't as wildly aggressive as the Goa'uld, so they might have just not be interested in space travel, preferring to stay at home with their collection of vassal planets providing food for the home planet. They certainly didn't try to hit Earth with any dramatic strikes when they met Earth, though they could have since Earth didn't have anything in the way of serious space defenses at the time.**

**So, what does this mean? I can't imagine that they didn't have ****_any_**** space capability. If they didn't have any space ship capability, the Goa'uld could have just dropped a few thousand Rods from God on the home planet, and wiped them out. So they must have had some space capability but didn't seem to be using it for serious travel.**

**In fact, space travel must have been WAY down their list of priorities. Why? Because the Stargates are horrendously insufficient method to feed an entire planet. Billions of people eat a LOT of food. The TV show showed grain pouring through the stargate, but that's not going to feed an entire planet very easily. For transporting a million tons of grain, it is much better to do it via spaceships - call it a few tons per second of grain pouring through a stargate times 86400 seconds per day, and you've got a couple hundred thousand tons of grain. Not enough to feed a planet by itself. Instead, you need thousands upon thousands of ships transporting tens of thousands of tons per ship.**

**The Aschen don't seem to be doing that. So why not? Their spaceships must have some sort of drawback. Sufficient to provide at least a deterrent to the Goa'uld attacking from space, but not enough to provide mass transport capabilities.**

**Solution? Their hyperdrives (likely stolen from the Goa'uld) don't work nearly as well. They're focused on biology, not higher computer and exotic physics technology.**

**So, yeah, their hyperdrives don't work too close to a gravity well. They needed to pop in well away from any planets, and need to leave the same way.**

**Hence, no quick hyperdrive-based attacks on Earth or any quick hyperdrive-based escape.**

**As to the Asgard block against teleporting weapons - I just didn't remember that. *hangs head in shame* In my defense, I've watched a lot more SG1 than Atlantis, though I love Atlantis too.**

**I hereby declare that after the difficulty that caused with the Wraith, that they communicated back to Earth and got the Asgard to remove that block. Because #authorfiat**

**;-)**

**Thanks for giving me an excuse to geek out about obscure worldbuilding minutia! Now, someone needs to give me an excuse to give the backstory for Baltar's Disease! The Aschen came perilously close to being wiped out, in fact there's a continent on Aschen that is still largely denuded of all life even centuries later.**


	58. Hope No Longer

**Sorry for the little pause in updating. Once again, you authors with families have my great respect!**

**Hopefully, it's evident that this chapter shifts back in time a couple minutes from the end of the last chapter to follow a different character. I've gotten 'caught' in books where little time hops happen and it confuses the bejeebers out of me until I get it squared away. So, I'm totally cheating here and giving advanced warning in an author comment to avoid possible reader confusion due to author ineptitude.**

* * *

Jon held his pistol with both hands, slowly moving forward as the madman shouted.

Jack was providing the distraction.

Suicide bomber scenario equivalent.

He cursed as he noted Cassie moving forward ahead of him.

'_Damn it Cassie! Get away from him!_'

If he could get close, he might be able to disable whatever dead man's trigger the Aschen fanatic had prepared. Jon noted a small black box on the man's chest that peeked out from the man's coat as he moved. The Aschen were ridiculously uniform, and that wasn't normal. Jon would bet that was the trigger, or at least one of them.

If Jack could just keep the guy distracted. Jack was pretty good at that.

Jack kept talking. Jon let the exact words roll past him, focusing on the stress in the tones. The man turned away from Jack toward the others in the cavern and Jon felt a moment of relief as Cassie knelt to avoid the man's attention. Jon didn't bother - there were already a hundred soldiers pointing guns at the guy. He wasn't anything special in that regard. He continued moving forward.

He was giving his suicide speech. The terrorists in the Middle East had quickly learned to do their suicide runs with a minimum of speeches. Apparently this guy was new to the suicide bombing world. Jon wasn't going to complain.

He was only fifty feet away when time finally ran out.

The man's speech reached a crescendo and he held up one of their handheld computers in one hand, his other arm rising to press it.

Jon centered himself and brought his sights onto the box the man was wearing.

As his finger pressed the trigger a shot rang out and the man jerked to the side as Jack's shot went through his head. Jon could see his shot hit the man's chest not far from the black target as gunfire erupted.

Jon's stomach sank. He began to charge forward. Perhaps -

Gunfire roared, but Jon could feel the small explosion through the noise. Not too much more than a large firecracker by his estimation. In this case that was probably worse than a bigger -

Red smoke began to flood out of the machines.

Jon skidded to a halt.

'_Weapon has gone off. Evacuate immediately. Evacuate Cassie. Get her to safety._'

Jon spun, eyes searching for her.

He spotted her staring at the cloud behind him in horror and he took a quick glance back. Yup. Big red cloud of death. Spreading. An Aschen who had been closer and caught trying to get away screamed as it touched him.

Jon didn't need to know the details. You didn't stop to gape.

He sprinted forward toward Cassie.

Chaos exploded around him as suddenly everyone was running away.

He pushed someone aside as he charged.

One of the machines was in his way and he jumped to its top and then sprang from it without missing a beat, clearing three people running under his leap.

"No!"

He could hear Cassie screaming above the panicked cries. She threw out her arms.

He could see ripples flowing through the air from her.

Someone slammed into him from the side and he staggered. He was now running crosswise to the flood of fleeing people and he lowered his shoulder and ran towards Cassie.

People were flung from him as he powered through the running crowd.

Screams rose higher as he neared her, but he ignored it. He was almost to her when a grey-clothed person ran in front of him. Jon just lowered his shoulder and hit the man. The impact barely registered as the man's body went flying through the air - Cassie was staggering, about to fall.

He half dove and caught her arm before she collapsed.

He stumbled forward a couple steps, catching Cassie more carefully in his arms and skidding to a halt.

She was swinging her arms in front of herself and Jon looked up to see what was happening.

Red smoke towered above him, reaching the ceiling of the vast cavern. For all the world, it looked like a massive tidal wave about to crash down on him. He began to pull Cassie back with him before he noticed.

A massive swath directly in front of Cassie was completely clear - every machine, wire, hose, and person had been shoved across the cavern floor against the wall. Even the spilled water from earlier accidents had been scraped perfectly clean - the cement floor scraped dry by her telekinetic force.

The cloud was spreading out around her pressure, though. It was pressed up the wall and out to the sides. Billowing swirls of red smoke were puffing out to the sides and above, ready to flow down on top of him even with Cassie's power pushing it back. He saw one of the bodies caught in then mental hold along with the cloud suddenly burst as if he were a pot instantly reaching a hard boil.

He wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her up as her legs collapsed. "Cassie! You can do it! Don't give up!"

If she could keep it up a little longer, the cavern would be able to evacuate. He began pulling her back slowly.

Her arms swung wider and then her body went utterly rigid. A tiny scream leaking through a throat so tight it seemed it would snap.

Jon watched in sudden awe as suddenly the edges of the cloud were sucked inward as if a black hole had opened. Cassie's body vibrated in its tension, her face and fingers a rictus.

But the cloud was being collapsed back onto itself.

"It's working! You're doing it!"

She didn't seem to react, but the angry red cloud continued collapsing into itself, and her body seemed to try to match it - her back arching against him as he held her tight to his body.

The swirling red fog became denser and more solid as it was compressed together. Machines and hoses that had been pressed along the wall began to get drawn together as well, sliding along the cement wall toward a center spot directly in front of him. Directly in front of Cassie.

"Jack!" He didn't know exactly where Jack was, but he would be close.

"Teleport that whole area into the sun!"

'That whole area' continued being crushed tighter and tighter.

"Teleport it away," he screamed. He didn't know how much more of this Cassie could take.

She wasn't relaxing. Every muscle in her body was locked tight. He knew that if he weren't holding her she might even snap her own spine as hard as she was tensing. Jack appeared next to him talking into a walky-talky.

" - a hundred ten feet in front of me! One hundred ten!"

"We have you locked. We …."

"Now," Jack screamed into the device.

"... We have it on our sensors. Nebulous. Locking down. And … and …"

Jon just held her tight as her body tensed impossibly tighter.

A flash of light went off in front of him and the cloud of crimson smoke, now pressed along with machinery and hoses into a ball barely ten feet across, disappeared.

Cassie instantly went limp.

"Cassie! Can you hear me? Cassie!"

Jon carefully set her down before ripping her shirt open to listen to her chest. He prayed for a heaving breath, for a heartbeat.

Nothing.

"Cassie! Wake up!"

No. It couldn't be like this.

He smacked her on the cheek hard enough to snap her head to the side, but she didn't react.

Jon began chest compressions. He could hear Jack yelling into the walky-talky before his older version began giving mouth-to-mouth.

'_Please God, don't take her._'

He pressed his ear to her chest and listened again. Jack was yelling again.

Nothing.

He began chest compressions again.

He was on his third set when suddenly everything flashed white.

Jon fell hard to the floor as he materialized next to the bed that now held Cassie.

He scrambled to his feet.

A doctor was already shining one of the Aschen healing devices onto her body.

Jon resisted the urge to rip it from the doctor's hand to apply it himself. Instead he clenched his hands into the sheets under her.

"Come on Cassie. Come back to me. Come on Cassie. Please. Please," Jon whispered over and over.

She gave a sudden gasp.

"Cassie!"

She didn't respond, but she was breathing.

"Doctor, what - "

Two nurses elbowed him away and began stripping off her clothes and attaching hosts of devices to her.

Another nurse came to his side. "Sir, give them room. They're taking care of her. You need to give them room."

Jon tugged against the man's grip, but he was as big as Jon, and Jon finally allowed himself to be pulled back a few steps.

The device continued to glow over her chest for several seconds before it faded. The doctor was checking monitors with a frown.

'_Please Cassie. Don't leave._'

The doctor tried the device on her head, but it only flickered briefly.

Injections given. Again the device only provided a brief flicker.

Sensors checked. Device adjusted. Flicker.

Repeat.

The urgent rush had faded to a careful examination, and Jon's mind slowed as well - seconds stretching for eternity.

The doctor finally turned to Jon. His face was not filled with the relief Jon wanted to see.

"Asgard tech has her body functioning again, but there is damage in her brain."

The words seemed to crush down on him.

"The sensors don't recognize it for diagnosis, and so I can just describe it. Multiple points of … overheating. Significant overheating. Bleeding across multiple places as well, though we were able to fix that. Her synapses - her brain signals - aren't anywhere near normal either. Off the charts. Half static as far as I can tell. I- I've never seen anything like it."

The doctor's face was pained.

"I just don't know. Physically she's in no danger. We are going to continue to monitor and see what we can do. It's very possible she will recover on her own, given time. I - I just don't know."

Jon closed his eyes as tears filled them.

"Thanks," he managed to croak out. The doctor had been as kind as possible, he imagined.

He crossed to her bedside and took her hand.

Her face had lost its terrible tension during her telekinetic struggle, but was now slack. Horribly slack.

He brushed a hair from her forehead. It was a beautiful honey brown that he loved with every fiber of his body. He closed his eyes and her face, appeared before him, no longer devoid of expression, but filled with life as he remembered her laughter and cheer.

"Please Cassie," he set his forehead gently to hers. "Please Cassie. Come back. I love you. I can't take another loss. Please."

Three days later Jon still sat next to her bed. He only knew the passage of time from the other visitors. Vanessa. Jack. Sam. Even Cameron. Daniel had left a few minutes before. He'd been chatty, trying to provide some conversation to distract Jon. The Aschen suicide strike hadn't stopped production of the cure, just paused it for a day while the Odyssey scanned for ...

Jon faded from Daniel's words.

Earth was back on its feet. Jack was now in the public eye, the star of the Stargate program and savior of the universe. The public was freaking out. Governments were coordinating what was released. Calls for every reaction under the sun were being aired all over the world, ranging from calls to destroy the Aschen to, bizarrely, calls to surrender to the Aschen.

Jon had just let the words wash over him. They were comforting in their own way - they meant the presence of a friend - but he really didn't care about the news outside.

His entire world was right in front of him, lying on a bed, all but brain dead. The doctors had never used the term, but he could read between the lines.

"I give my apologies for not being able to arrive sooner."

The words were English, but not in any tone a human could create.

Jon jumped to his feet.

"Thor!"

The alien stood before him, just as Jon remembered - small, thin body and limbs topped with a large head with huge, oblong eyes. The alien's expression was neutral as it always was.

"Thor, you've got to fix her!" Jon nearly leaped toward the alien to grab him and drag him over to Cassie's side, but held himself back at the last moment. Unused to physical exertion for tens of thousands of years, the Asgard didn't appreciate physical manhandling.

"Commander O'Neill has relayed to me the events surrounding her damage. I have brought Sigyn, one of our most knowledgeable life scientists."

Jon looked back to the doorway and was momentarily speechless, shock roiling even his total focus on Cassie.

Thor was just barely over three feet tall with scrawny, well, everything. The being standing back was … not scrawny.

The same structure was evident, but only barely. Significantly muscled arms and legs instead of thin. Grey skin, but with a nearly purplish undertone. Long fingers, but solid instead of skeletal. And she was definitely a _she_. Two broad breasts covered her chest, complete with stubby nipples.

Jon felt his gaze drop. Yup. He jerked his gaze back up to her eyes. Definitely female.

"I shall explain later, Jon O'Neill," Thor's warbly voice pulled Jon from his shock.

"Sigyn, this is Cassandra Frasier."

Sigyn walked up to Jon, and her large, black eyes were even with his while Thor's barely reached his belt buckle. She laid her hand on his arm.

Asgard didn't do 'comfort' touches. They mostly didn't touch. Period.

His confusion continued to expand as he felt the smooth, nearly-slick skin he remembered for Asgard, but it was warm instead of cool.

"Commander Thor has apprised me of events here, and Cassandra's heroism. I shall do everything possible to help her recover."

Sigyn's voice was huskier than Thor's, more solid, less reedy, but with the same odd cadence.

Jon nodded, still not sure how to react, but finally set the questions aside for the more immediate concerns.

The taller, broader Asgard began tapping the screens over Cassie's head. Lights began to glow from the sides of the bed, focusing on Cassie's face. Words, symbols, and images flashed across the screen in a blur. Multiple images of a brain popped up and began to pulse as colors flowed back and forth.

Sigyn frowned.

"What? What's wrong?"

He'd been able to figure out some of Thor's expressions - tiny little twitches that only showed up in the most extreme of reactions. Sigyn's frown was as clear as a human's.

She continued to flip through the screens faster than Jon could track. Occasionally a screen would pause as she watched … something for a minute, before continuing to flip through screens.

Sigyn finally stepped back and light flowed over Cassie's head. Jon's heart began to race as hope began to build.

The light played over her face far longer than Jon remembered it ever working on someone else before it finally faded away.

He turned to Sigyn, a question on his lips, but it faded away at her expression.

The face, a strange mix of human and Asgard, was clearly distraught.

"Her brain has been traumatized heavily. Repair is not possible. I am sorry."

Jon's heart crashed and he staggered back, a sob wrenching loose as the long hope which had been building suddenly crashed through his feet and a black hole seemed to form in his chest.

He'd kept from crying during his vigil, hoping for recovery even as hope had faded. Now, though, even the last shred of hope had been removed.

Tears streamed down his cheeks and he closed his eyes. Blackness beckoned. His own cries filled his ears and he reached with his mind for the blackness of oblivion. He couldn't bear this. A scream filled his ears. His own.

He couldn't. He just couldn't. Not without her. Without her.

Nothing.

"Thor. Kill me," he choked out as tears broke loose.

There was nothing left. Not again. There was nothing left. He'd lost his life. He'd lost Sam. He'd recovered enough that he'd found love again. And now that had been ripped away too. The last of him had been used up. There was nothing left to rebuild.

A gasp sounded.

"Please," he continued. "I never should have been. After Loki. She was all I had. If she's gone, there's nothing for me anymore."

Sounds, warbled voices.

He looked up to beg the Asgard. The room was a blur through his tears, nothing more than blurry forms.

One of the forms approached and grabbed him fiercely, tumbling him back onto the chair he'd collapsed on.

"Jon! No! I'm here!"

Cassie's voice sounded in his head.

Had Thor done it? He'd been reunited with Cassie?

He hugged her to himself, continuing to sob.

"Jon. Jon, please," her voice continued to call him.

Cassie? This didn't seem like what Ascension would be. He'd gotten the impression it would be more glowy-lighty-floaty.

He tried to speak and his voice barely rasped, "Cassie?"

"Jon! I'm here. I'm fine!"

He tried to see her, but the world was still a blur. He released his hold just long enough to wipe his eyes.

Golden brown hair. Sparkling brown eyes. Tear tracks.

"Oh no. Don't cry Cassie!" He kissed her cheeks. If he was dead and was now with Cassie again, there wouldn't be any tears.

She flung herself into his arms and hugged him.

'_Death isn't all that bad,_' he thought. '_Not quite what I expected, but I'll take it._'

He opened his eyes to see the two Asgard standing by the bed in the infirmary. They seemed to be looking at him and Cassie. The tall, weird one looked puzzled.

"How come they can see us?"

Cassie pulled herself to see him, cupped his face and kissed him. He kissed her back. Who cared why the weird aliens could see them. He had Cassie. He didn't really care about the other stuff.

"How can who see us?"

Her voice was music and happiness and Simpsons put together.

"The." Kiss. "Asgards." Kiss. "Back." Kiss. "There."

"We're dead. They can't see us."

"You are not dead Jon O'Neill."

Jon looked over Cassie's shoulder at Thor for a moment, and then returned his gaze to Cassie's beautiful eyes.

"What does he know," he said before kissing Cassie. "He's just an Asgard. I'm definitely dead. I'm in heaven with everything I love right here."

Cassie giggled and kissed him.

"No giggling, Cassie"

He kissed her back, his ears filled with the sound of further giggles.

Dead or not, he was in heaven.

* * *

**That seems like a lovely place to end. Everyone happy. All done. No more. Right? What else could there be to follow up? Certainly not some out-of-the-blue alien weirdness that the author clumsily inserts into the middle of the chapter.**


	59. Doing It All Over Again

**This one truly is the final chapter.**

* * *

"With the aid of Colonel Carter, we have reprogramed their Stargates to keep them from contacting any other Stargates beyond their slave worlds, and have disabled all their spaceships capable of interstellar travel. They used nearly two thirds of their interstellar force for their attack on Earth, and while it is possible they have hidden a few ships in other solar systems, we are confident there are no interstellar craft left in the Aschen home system thanks to extensive scans by the Odyssey and the Asgard."

The speaker was an Air Force Intelligence Officer. The meeting was interminable.

"Diplomats dealing with the Aschen have proposed a selection of findings as to the likelihood of a new attack as well as what actions or inactions in the future are most likely to renew active hostilities on their part. The Earth Diplomatic Corp has further details in this area which they will present; I believe that presentation is tomorrow.

"This is a list of the Stargates which they still control along with the network depiction of their access." The officer gestured to a fresh slide displaying a short list of Stargate addresses and then a large-scale map of where the planets were in the galaxy with Earth also highlighted.

"As you can see, the Aschen homeworld happens to be the closest to us of their planets, and that is just over twelve thousand lightyears. Based on their answers and confirmed by our examination of their ships' propulsion systems, they are dramatically slower than the Odyssey, or even the goa'uld ships, and they have a variety of technical shortcomings. While they are not the focus of this presentation, it does have some impact - their trip took nearly three weeks to traverse the distance. While they entered our solar system beyond Neptune's orbit, they could have only exited hyperspace not too far outside the orbit of Mars due to their flight systems shortcomings compared to Goa'uld and Asgard systems. Though stealth attacks are a possibility with their ships, a traditional attack is not particularly feasible, especially now that Earth is able to openly begin production of advanced space ships.

"For now, a focus has been made to acquire significant biological defense capabilities for Earth on the large scale. The devices taken from their attack fleet have helped in this, dramatically. There is still concern of our ability to counteract any engineered diseases, especially those that are introduced more subtly - Aschen biological technology is far ahead of our own even though we have dozens of their biological fabrication machines - Ellisoll Caskets as they have named them after one of their own researchers."

Jon rubbed his hands across silky skin and barely heard.

"They have centuries of experience in advanced biological manipulation that we cannot match with just a few of their technical machines. This is not something which we expect to be overcome in a matter of months, or possibly even years. It could be decades before we have built the necessary tools to truly develop an equivalent biological manipulation capability.

"These slides show the expected graph of biotech closure. Note the initial jump expected over the next few years that flattens out after ten years.

"However, the Asgard have provided several of their own devices which …"

Jon held Cassie's hand under the table as the captain continued the briefing. It had been going on for nearly an hour now, and Jon was pretty sure that Jack was about to expire of severe PowerPoint poisoning. Four pages so far of doodles and counting.

His own papers were blank.

His hand under the table was active. Stroking. Petting. Rubbing. Caressing. Massaging.

Cassie's hand.

It had been four months since the Aschen assault had been turned back and the existence of aliens had become public knowledge. The Stargate had been quickly revealed to the public of Earth with a heavily abridged history of events, especially regarding the Goa'uld, and zero knowledge of the Ori. It had been determined that Earth's population didn't need a second and third existential threat from the 'beyond' at this time.

He still couldn't keep his hands off her.

It had been a crazy world. Nearly a hundred fifty million people had died across Earth in spite of everything they had done. Ironically, it had been the industrialized countries that had taken the largest percentage of losses, as urban living proved especially susceptible to disruption on a hundred different levels. The repercussions of the deaths and disruptions were still rocking the globe nearly as much as the exposure of the existence of aliens had.

Jon had tried to abscond with Cassie, to find a secluded cabin and never let go.

The world needed her, though.

Jack had become the public official as the head of Earth's interstellar efforts. That's what his position actually was. He just hadn't wanted the position to become public knowledge. He had been ensconced in nearly a solid week of continual press conference once they had revealed the existence of Earth's interstellar travel.

Jack, in a fit of pique at Jon needling him a month ago in the midst of the firestorm of publicity, had tossed Jon to the wolves.

Somehow, internal camera feeds from the Odyssey had been leaked to the press. Jon's assault to retake the Odyssey had made their way to the public through some 'mystery leak' and Jon had immediately become one of the most popular people on the planet. For the last month he had been paraded across the planet, teleported from one side of the world to the other to do everything from kiss babies to open hospitals. He literally could not carry the ludicrous mass of medals and pins that nearly every nation in the world had insisted on pinning on him.

It was almost as if _someone_ had been purposefully manipulating press releases and leaks to push Jon into the spotlight no matter how much Jon had complained and resisted. Press managed to track him down even when he had carefully disappeared.

Somehow. Mystery. Couldn't imagine how the press could have tracked him down. Stories of high level leaks helping the press find him were nonsense, of course. Who would dare leak from the SGC to the press?

Jon had finally caved, with a couple demands.

Complete, unlimited access to teleportation. He couldn't leave her for long.

Jack had acquiesced and laughed as he tossed Jon out to the ravening mob, leaving himself to get work done with at least a tiny bit of breathing room.

'_Sap from P4C-023. Dip his briefs in it. Oh! Get Cassie could hack the SGC and release the tapes of him - oh, wait, Sam designed their security. Scratch that. Wait! Get Sam to hack the SGC! Genius! Then I can start stealing all the cake in the Pentagon!_'

Cassie, as if reading his thoughts, squeezed his hand tightly, digging in her nails. She leaned over to whisper.

"If you don't get that expression off your face, he's going to know you're up to something."

"How do you know what I was thinking," Jon whispered back. "You getting telepathy?"

"Don't need it to figure that part out."

She gave him a grin and turned her attention back to the presenter. The officer had made it though another eighteen slides while Jon had distracted himself with thoughts of retributive mayhem unleashed on Jack. Only thirty seven more slides to go according to the numbers in the corners.

'_He knows I'm going to get him, anyway,_' Jon shrugged to himself. As if in reply to that thought Jack looked up and scowled at Jon. Jon turned on his most innocent of expressions. Jack's level of stinkeye cranked up a dozen notches.

Jon returned his attention to Cassie's hand. He wanted to kiss her hand. Kiss her. Hold her. Make love to her.

The three days of loss had shaken him, and he knew he was being silly about it, but he didn't care. He'd nearly lost her. The final crushing loss at Sigyn's pronouncement had broken something. Sigyn had only meant that the portions of her brain linked to her telekinetic abilities were beyond repair, but for the short minute before he had been shown the truth, he had been in a hell that Ba'al couldn't dream of matching.

It had been two days before he'd left her side at all. Even now he managed to spend every other night with her, and get into meetings once or twice a week where he knew she would be.

Cassie squeezed his hand again, rubbing her thumb over his knuckles. He glanced up to her to see her mouth "love you" without turning her eyes from the presentation.

'_She denies it, but I know she picked up some telepathy!_'

"So, with that, our summary is that direct assault by the Aschen against Earth is highly unlikely because of their lack of mobility beyond their planets. However, indirect strikes, primarily via biological means continues to be a significant threat. Strict isolation policies have been implemented for all communications and interactions with the Aschen or anywhere they have been, along with a focus on biological defenses based on Asgard technology, captured Aschen technology, and nascent native Earth tech."

The final slide was up with "QUESTIONS?" on it. A tiny little "107/107" in the corner promised that it really was the last slide.

None of the people present had any interesting questions, and Jon's sources of information were a lot more direct than what was presented here. He had only come so he could sit with Cassie. For her part, she had provided information for half the slides - no questions from her.

Jon stood up and relaxed to the side, chatting with Major Rogers, one of the officers he'd been working with since Jack had tossed him to the media wolves. Cassie was cornered with questions by the others in the room. She knew more than anyone else in the world about Aschen biological capabilities and how Earth was coming along on matching them. The hard questions hadn't been raised to the presenter - the people in the meeting knew where to get the direct information.

Jon's heart lept with pride. Smartest damn bio-geneti-whatever in the galaxy.

He'd have to let up on his need to be close to her. He knew that, and he had been careful to watch for any signs that she was getting annoyed with him or feeling crowded. It was just, just -

Jack strolled up to Jon and the Major Rogers quickly said a goodbye. Jon hid a little grin. Yeah, Jack's expression was … tired. A tired Jack had very little patience. Amazingly he hadn't killed any of the presenters yet. Probably Sam being around was helping counteract the tired grumpiness.

"Hey Jon."

"Hey Jack."

Jon's alert level rose.

"We're having a dinner at my place tonight. How about you and Cassie come on over. We need some time to relax what with all the hectic times we've been having."

Jack's voice was casual and Jon didn't believe a second of it.

"Sounds good. Should I bring some beer?"

"Sure. It's casual. Just some friends. No officials."

"Ya, sure. You betchya," Jon nodded. "Sounds nice."

"Great," Jack said.

"Great," Jon replied.

Jack turned away and then turned back and whispered. "I had Sam build a security system for the house. Don't even think about it."

Jon snorted. "You think Sam's on your side in this?"

Jack's eyes narrowed.

"Black ops teams by the dozen. At my command, _squirt_."

"Glue and feathers, _geezer_."

A tiny flicker of a smile touched Jack's face and Jon could feel his own eyes twinkling.

"Children."

Jon straightened and spun as did Jack. Sam was standing there with her arms crossed. Her glare was marred by the tiny tick at the corner of her mouth trying to make a smile.

"He started it."

Their voices hit in perfect union and Sam's glare dissolved into giggles.

"Well, whoever started it doesn't matter," she said, and giggled again. "I'm going to have to break it up. I need to steal the General here. I've got a few findings from special projects I need to tell you about while you have a second."

Sam's laugh had caught Cassie's attention and Jon saw her excuse herself and start across the conference room.

"Cassie, it's good to see you," Sam exclaimed. "Since I've gotten back from Atlantis it seems like I've barely been able to say 'hi' we've been so busy. Seeing you for thirty seconds in meetings like this doesn't really count."

Cassie grinned and hugged Sam. "The crazy just keeps on going. It seems like it should calm down, but it never does."

Sam nodded to Jack. "This guy is supposed to invite you guys over to our place this evening for a supper and relaxation to fix just that problem. At least for the evening. Can you guys come?"

Jon spoke up. "Yup, he just told me. We wouldn't miss it."

"Good. Now, I really do have to talk to you, General O'Neill. Like I said, Special Projects is going nuts right now and I've really got to catch you up before you have more meetings."

Jack's face was a study to Jon. It was mostly calm, but there were a _lot_ of things going on under the calm that Jon couldn't put together.

Jack nodded. "Sounds good, Carter. See you tonight, Cassie. Jon."

Jon watched as Sam and Jack walked away, heads already bent toward each other, speaking quietly.

"So, dinner tonight? Sounds nice, but is it just for a few minutes of relaxation?"

Jon snorted. "No, he's up to something. Probably a bunch of somethings. I guess we'll find out tonight."

Jon gazed after them, considering, but Cassie's hand sliding into his own pulled his attention back to infinitely more important matters.

"Jon," she said quietly. "I've got a problem."

Jon looked down into her eyes with a touch of alarm. "What?"

She leaned up to whisper in his ear.

"Your hands were driving me nuts all meeting. I _really_ want to feel them somewhere other than my hands."

Jon's groin tightened and he sucked in a deep breath.

"Oh. Um."

"And I really, really want to touch the rest of you. My hands all over you. And lips too. All over."

A layout of the entire mountain flashed through Jon's mind. Thirty one levels and sublevels. One thousand forty eight rooms. They were on sublevel 6. Closest room without cameras but with locks was …

"I see," Jon said. "I need to check out, um, a special project, that, the Asgard, yeah, down the hall just a ways, you too?"

Cassie leaned back and her expression was serious. She nodded. Seriously.

"That does sound important. I think I definitely need to see to that. Can you show me?"

"Yeah, definitely."

"Rogers," Jon called. The Major looked over at him. "I need to see some of the latest Aschen findings in the lab. I'll catch up to you in twenty, um, make that forty minutes. See you in the Mess Hall up on level 3."

Jon turned to follow Cassie before Rogers could give an acknowledgement or objection.

"Um, Special Projects room is just down here," Jon gestured, and they turned into a side hallway.

"Hmmmm," Cassie's hum had sounded more like a thinking hum, but Jon didn't care. He was thinking too. On a very particular track.

'_Third doorway on the right should be … yup!_'

Jon opened the door and an extra housing room was visible. Cassie stepped inside, and Jon closed the door, behind them, sliding a lock into place.

He turned and Cassie launched herself into his arms, lips crashing to his own as they frantically tugged at their clothing.

Jon walked into the Mess Hall forty five minutes later whistling cheerily.

"Hey there Rogers, sorry to keep you waiting. The lab was nuts. Took longer than I thought. Really crazy."

"Not a problem Jon," the man called back. "We still have twenty minutes before we're scheduled to be in Brussels. I've already eaten, though. Better grab your food before they beam us up."

Jon tossed a thumbs up and turned back to the cafeteria bar, whistling cheerily.

As he reached the start of the line, another whistling was coming from the doorway, and Jon matched the Simpson's theme song of the unknown whistler.

He was feeling good! Forty minutes of sex and cuddling had done wonders -

The whistler came through the doorway and Jon's whistling faltered as Jack appeared. Jack's whistling faltered.

Jack and Jon met eyes and quickly looked away. They cleared their throats and picked up their cafeteria trays.

They followed each other down the line, gathering their food, each finishing with a big slice of cake.

In silence.

The nodded to each other as they went to their separate tables.

"Jack."

"Jon."

Jon walked up to Jack's house with one arm around Cassie's waist and his other holding a cake.

Jack answered the door.

"Jon."

"Jack."

Cassie gave them a weird look and hugged Jack as Jon carefully stared at the cake he carried.

"Come on, cake is always welcome along with those bringing it."

Sam came in from the back patio, a bottle of water in hand. Cassie and Sam hugged and turned to the back patio.

Jon set the cake on the kitchen table and stood next to Jack, staring out the back door at the two women.

"So …"

"So … "

"So how about that security system Carter installed?"

"Yeah!" Jack's relief was palpable in his reply and eagerness.

Jon followed along as Jack showed off a truly Byzantine mishmash of Goa'uld, Asgard, and Earth technologies that Sam had installed throughout the house. A half dozen layers of sensors for everything Jon could imagine, and a bunch that he never would have before Jack told him, surrounded the house. There were even panic sensors with code words that would trigger anything from fire suppression to a forcefield covering the house to an emergency teleport of everyone out of the house to the Mountain.

There were even a couple pieces of technology Jon didn't recognize.

"Sam stole those from Atlantis. They're Ancient tech. They literally read your brain or something," Jack grinned. "Hostile thoughts from non-approved people get a forcefield wrapped around the person if the alarm system has been activated!"

Jon grinned. "You're a bad influence on her, you know. A few years ago she never would have considered doing something like that."

Jack's grin was proud. "Yeah, she's come along nicely."

"What brought her back from Atlantis so quickly? She was barely out there a month before she returned. Did we need her for the Aschen and going public? I know that the Pegasus galaxy is still hopping with the Wraith."

Jack looked pensive for a moment and shook his head. "That's actually part of tonight's purpose. I'll hold off on bringing that topic up until everyone arrives."

The doorbell rang and Jack strode to the door.

"T! Welcome! And Trisha, too! Glad you could both make it!"

Jon grinned as he saw Teal'c clasp forearms with Jack. Trisha moved past the pair and came over to Jon to give him a hug.

"Jon! We heard about the Aschen, but not until it was all over. We've been too busy to make it back until now. I'm so glad you're all right!"

Jon returned the hug and froze.

"Trish?"

Teal'c spoke, his deep voice rumbling. "We are expecting a son."

Jon leaned back and looked at Trisha. He hadn't paid attention as she'd entered, but when she'd hugged him, the bulge was easily evident.

Jon stared at her stomach in awe.

He stepped in and hugged her again, this time he stuck his butt out, careful to not put any pressure on the bulging stomach. He gently hugged.

Teal'c and Trisha were having a kid!

He looked up to see Teal'c and Jack silently grasping forearms, huge grins on both faces. Well, Teal'c face had a small curve to the corner of his mouth. Same difference.

Teal'c and Trisha were having a kid!

"Congratulations Trisha! Congratulations Teal'c! This is wonderful!" A sudden thought and realization dawned on him.

"Cassie! Sam! Get in here!"

If he didn't let Cassie know right away, he was going to be in deep trouble!

As Cassie and Sam joined in on the congratulations, Daniel and Vala walked up and joined in the festivities. The group gathered at the back patio as the steaks cooked when Sam and Jack suddenly both popped their heads up. Jack made his excuses and went back into the house. A minute later, Cameron and Vanessa appeared as well.

"Really," Jon whispered in Sam's ear as Trisha and Teal'c received another round of congratulations. "You've got mental alarms set up? Really?"

Sam's eyes twinkled. "I've got no idea what you're talking about Jon. Ancient technology isn't cleared to be on Earth outside of Area 51 or the Mountain."

Jon shook his head and then grinned.

"Jack has been very, very good for you."

Sam looked back at Jack and Jon could see love filling her expression. "Yeah," she whispered. "Yeah, he is."

Jon looked over at Cassie and felt his heart nearly burst with a sudden wave of happiness. Her laughter filled their air with golden notes and she was radiant in the evening sunlight. He wasn't sure he'd ever been happier.

He found himself behind her and wrapped her in a hug. She looked up at him and surprise, but Jon just smiled. He tucked his nose into her hair and breathed deeply, soaking in her scent, her feel, her everything.

"Love you," he whispered.

Cassie snuggled back into his embrace and tilted her head up to give him a quick kiss. "Love you."

Jon relaxed into the evening as they all pulled out lawn chairs and sat around, enjoying the evening, food, and conversation.

Cassie nudged Jon part way through the evening.

"Notice something weird?"

Jon glanced around, and nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary. The entire team was comfortable, happy.

"No, what?"

"No mosquitoes," Cassie whispered. "Not a single fly either."

Jon guffawed out loud. The others looked at him in happy curiosity.

"Just thinking what a perfect evening this is. Not even a single bug to bother us."

Sam ducked her head, hiding a grin.

"Hear hear," Cameron called out. "To wonderful times with wonderful friends!"

They loudly acclaimed and joined in to Cameron's toast.

"So Jack," Vala said from her perch on Daniel's lap. "I happen to know what a sneaky person you are, and this delightful time is hardly a random bit of relaxation. What's going on? Come on! Give, or I'll get Daniel to start talking about his rocks."

Jon liked a lot of things about Vala. One of which was her willingness to jump right on top of a topic. The rest of the people turned their eyes to Jack.

Jack held up his hands. "What, can't a -"

"Cut the line, Jack. Tell us. After all - " Jon said with a serious look. He paused until everyone was looking at him.

"I know you almost like I know myself."

Howls of laughter filled the air.

"Fine, fine," Jack said as the laughter faded. "Carter."

Sam nodded and closed her eyes in concentration for a second. A brief static filled the air and then swept away from them until it was all but inaudible.

"No listening ears -" she said.

Jon looked around, and the world beyond thirty feet away was oddly mottled.

"And no one able to watch," she finished.

"Thanks," Jack said and leaned forward.

"There are a couple other things going on here, and I wanted to get everyone together for this." He glanced at his watch. "In fact, one of the big parts should be showing up any second now."

He paused and everyone glanced around, looking for the incoming teleport.

Nothing happened. Jack shrugged. "Well, it's the Asgard. They've got a -"

White flashes filled the air and the group was surrounded by …

"Whoah."

It was more of the strange, large Asgard. Jon shook his head as he found Thor in the group of aliens, and he thought the small grey guy looked even more out of place than he would have in a group of humans.

'_Wow, there really are different Asgard. I almost convinced myself that I had imagined the big and buff version. I wonder why Thor never mentioned them._'

Thor looked positively tiny and fragile as a three foot alien surrounded by twenty of the larger, muscled Asgard.

"Greetings," Thor's warbling voice sounded.

"Thor, ol' buddy, ol' pal, glad you could make it," Jack welcomed them. "Grab a food cube and pull up a seat."

Thor nodded gravely to Jack. "I have indeed brought a nutrient cube to partake in your cultural consumption of foodstuff. The others, though, would prefer to partake of Earth foods."

Jon noticed a little ripple go through the others, shifting and nodding.

His eyes widened. '_Asgard _never _show reactions like that! Were these a long-lost branch … wait, no, because Sigyn was certainly familiar with the Asgard medical tech. What's going on?_'

"If you're sure it's safe," Jack asked. "You know our primitive foodstuff can have all sorts of variations and impurities. You know, all the stuff that makes it awesome."

"I am certain it is safe," Thor reassured Jack. "We have designed robust digestive systems. As to the taste, I can only tell you that their taste senses no longer find our food cubes palatable."

At that a true shudder ran through the crowd of Asgard.

"Whether they enjoy Earth foods is unknown."

"All right! Then let's introduce the Asgard to the delicacy known a hot dogs and beer," Jack said and stood up and grabbed a large package of hotdogs from a cooler he had set aside.

Cassie stood up and crossed to one of the tall Asgard. Jon recognized the Asgard as the one who had healed Cassie - Sigyn. Jon stood and joined her.

"Sigyn, I want to thank you for healing me," Cassie said and stepped forward, wrapping the Asgard in a hug.

The Asgard was stiff, but then raised her hands to Cassie's back.

"You are welcome, Cassandra Frasier. I was relieved the healing was sufficient for continued functionality."

Jon smothered a smile.

'_They might look different, but they still have the same way of talking._'

"I also want to thank you," Jon said as Cassie stepped back. He stepped forward and hugged the alien. Her smooth skin felt odd, and her return 'hug' was more like pressing its hand against his back. He couldn't help but be a bit self-conscious that he was hugging a naked female with distinctly human-like breasts. Another way they were definitely Asgard - no clothes.

"You too are welcome, Jon O'Neill."

Jon grinned. "Hey, just call me Jon. If you save our lives, you definitely get to call me and Cassie by our first names!"

There was a quick ripple of motion as the aliens looked to each other and spoke softly to each other in their native Asgard language.

Sigyn gave a slow blink of her eyes. "I am honored, Jon. Cassie."

Jack called them all over and began showing them how to cook a hotdog on his grill, showing the tools and how the grill worked, demonstrating how to tell the hotdog was 'done', then completing with hotdog buns and condiments.

Jon and the rest of the SG people stood and watched with varying expressions of awe at the sight. Jon counted twenty four of the new type of Asgard.

Jack finally finished with a flourish and took a big bite of his hotdog, chewing with delight.

"All right boys and girls, have at it. Get yourselves some genuine Earth foodstuff!"

He returned to the others and Thor, wearing a massive grin.

"Thor, you sure you don't want a hotdog? Ya' don't know what you're missing."

Thor nodded solemnly. "I realize I do not know what I am missing. I am willing to continue that way."

"Well, then, how about you tell the rest of us what the big plan is. I haven't broken the news to them yet."

Thor turned his gaze over the rest of them.

"The Asgard are dying. To be more precise, we are nearly extinct as a race. Current projections suggest that within a hundred years we will be dead."

"Oh no, Thor," Jon blurted out. "Surely there's something you can do!"

Thor's large head slowly shook back and forth.

"We recently attempted a fix we hoped would at least keep us at our current state of degradation, but it failed. Every one of the volunteers who undertook the treatment is rapidly failing. Two have already died and the others will die within one of your years.

"There is nothing we can do to preserve our race. The damage from the cloning is too extensive."

"Then, who are these," Vanessa asked. "I've never met any of you before, but I thought all Asgardians looked mostly like you."

Thor blinked. "You are correct. All Asgardians do look like I do."

Jon saw Thor's mouth purse, as much as it physically could. His voice began to warble more than normal.

"Some of us - many of us - have decided to take a dramatic risk. These," his spindly arm gestured behind him at the tall, muscled aliens.

"These are not Asgard."

His voice strained, and Jon could clearly hear the distress.

Jon shook his head. "Thor, they are. They look different, but I can tell you that no matter what they look like, they are definitely Asgard."

"Appearances are deceiving, Jon. They are actually much closer to being human than being Asgard."

Cassie gasped and looked over at them, eyes wide. Jon wasn't sure what had just dawned on her, but he didn't ask.

"They have built entirely new bodies, based off human bodies, and they are determined to continue their existence this w-way."

Jon had never heard Thor stutter before, and Sam dropped to her knees and wrapped Thor in a hug. Jack had seen Thor return a hug once in the same awkward way the others had done, but this time he laid his head against her shoulder and closed his eyes.

Jon was feeling as if he were in an alternate universe. Thor didn't get upset like this. The deliberate little, grey alien didn't stutter. And he most definitely did not lean into and welcome a hug!

Thor finally raised his head and Sam stood back.

"Thank you … Sam."

He looked around again.

"For over thirty thousand years we have continued on as we are now, seeking to continue living and learning - trying to improve our bodies to that end. And now, thirty thousand years later, our bodies can no longer support themselves. My own body is made of less cloned Asgard flesh than artificial systems supporting my life.

"Nonetheless, I am still Asgardian. My artificial systems replicate the original Asgardian functionality."

He looked back to the other aliens, several of which had completed their hotdogs and were eating them with exclamations Jon couldn't begin to understand, but certainly seemed to be excited.

"Their bodies only include remnants of Asgard genetics, instead building most of their bodily systems based on human systems and genetic code. Even their - " Thor paused. "Even their brains have been remade, though in a less dramatic fashion, I admit."

Jon was getting a sense of the agony Thor was feeling.

'_If the entire human race had decided to transform themselves into … into, slugs I guess I might react similarly. Even if the slugs had arms and legs, they aren't really _human _in a lot of ways. However, in the ways that count ..._'

"Thor," Jon knelt down to look him directly in the eyes. He really did like the little grey guy. "I'm a clone. For you Asgard, that doesn't really mean much. For us humans, though, that's … well, that's a huge thing. I'm Jack. But I'm not Jack. When I was created, there was no possible thing you could have done to convince me that I wasn't the actual, original, _real_ Jack.

"It wasn't until I actually saw original Jack standing in front of me that it dawned on me that I wasn't actually the original Jack O'Neill. I felt like the original, just younger. I had every memory of the original. Every feeling and emotion."

He shook his head as he ripped at the old, scarred memories.

"Was I Jack at that time?"

Thor nodded. "Yes. You are Jack O'Neill."

Jon shook his head again. "No. I'm not. We share the same genetics. We share most of the same memories. But we are separate people. I am distinctly different than Jack. But we are also so very much similar that it's downright freaky sometimes."

He heard Jack snort.

Asgard features and expressions were very different from humans, but he'd spent quite a bit of time with the little grey guy and knew at least some of the easier or more dramatic expressions. This one was easy. Skepticism.

"So tell me this, Thor. You're here to ask something of us, and I can guess it has something to do with helping them."

The blink was an acknowledgement.

"So why would you do that for a race of beings that aren't Asgardian any more?

"I'll tell ya' why, buddy. Because they are still the same people they were before their change. They are still _your_ people. They've changed their bodies pretty dramatically, but they are still _your_ people. You know that, deep down in here."

Jon touched Thor's chest. Thor grabbed his finger and moved it down to his stomach area.

"My heart is down here, Jon."

Jon chuckled a little. "All right, you know it deep inside here, then. They've changed dramatically. But you wouldn't be this upset and you wouldn't be so willing to request aid on their behalf if you didn't still believe they are _your_ people."

Jon hadn't noticed, but Sigyn had approached their group, and now knelt down next to Thor.

"Listen to him, please, Thor."

She gently encased his long, thin fingers in her own broad ones.

"I am still the same Sigyn you have known for so many centuries. I know I have changed. More than you can appreciate without experiencing for yourself. Having hormones, alone, is beyond my ability to describe to you. Still, I am Sigyn. We have labored for centuries together to save our people. This is a different route than what we once imagined, but this is the way our people will survive. I have not left you."

Thor remained motionless, his eyes drawn to where her hand was holding his.

He slowly raised his eyes to Sigyn for a long moment before turning to Jon. "I thank you for your words."

He turned to Jack. "I have explained our needs to you in full. Please pass on our request for me."

A white flash filled the air and he was suddenly gone.

Sigyn seemed to slump even as she rose to her feet.

Cassie stepped next to her and put an arm around the alien.

"He is the greatest of us," Sigyn softly said. "He is the bravest. The most brilliant. Without him …"

She swallowed.

"I - I shall miss him."

Cassie led her to a bench and sat down with her.

Jon sighed. "Well, that was a hell of a bombshell, Jack."

Jack gave a wry smile. "I didn't realize there was such a tension with the Asgard over this. I knew that not all of them had decided to change, but it just didn't occur to me that they'd have such a hard time about this. Probably should have. I've been a bit distracted. I just figured they were … well, their regular, logical selves doing their regular alien stuff."

"Can't argue about all the distractions," Jon agreed. "So, care to fill us in on the Asgard's situation and how we can help?"

Jack nodded. "Grab a seat again everyone, this'll take a while to cover."

He turned to the other Asgard. "So guys, I also have a collection of foods for you guys to try beyond just hotdogs. Take your pick of any food you see and give it a try."

He sat down in his previous chair and leaned forward to the rest of the humans, and Sigyn who was sitting next to Cassie.

"So, here's the deal. The Asgard, at least some of them, have taken a step to completely change from their existing course of cloning, and are going primitive. Positively back to the Stone Age for these guys."

"Not completely accurate, Jack O'Neill," Sigyn injected. "We are not eschewing technology, we are changing our living methods. We are not able to maintain our new living methods in the existing Asgard environment."

"Gotcha'," Jack nodded. "So they're coming back to our level of technology so that they can do things like run and play in the dirt, eat junk food, and make babies the old-fashioned way."

Jon's head whipped around to stare at the aliens, milling around, exchanging foods with each other with various exclamations of excitement. In all the weirdness he'd completely overlooked something. Yup. Quite a few of them had the necessary plug between their legs to match with the slots others had.

'_Oh crap. We really need to introduce clothing to these guys!_'

"Thor explained some of it to you, but their small bodies are fundamentally incapable of that sort of thing, so they've made completely new bodies by mixing Asgard and human genetics, especially every bit of Ancient genetics they were able to incorporate. He explained that the new bodies would not thrive living as the other Asgard are living, and need an environment to exercise and stress their bodies … naturally."

Sam nodded. "Which makes sense on all sorts of levels. Our bodies are big, messy, interconnected systems the mesh with everything around us. We have umpteen thousand species of completely foreign bacteria and viruses that are necessary to keep our bodies operating. Then the sunlight, the temperature, the things we handle, the things we do, every experience we have forms a massive interconnected web that impacts us.

"The Asgard have slowly evolved and designed themselves into bodies that don't have those things and have built environments to match their bodies. Having a new, messy, interconnected body in the perfectly sterile environment of their existing environments would cause any number of problems with the new bodies, and they'd quickly have to start engineering fixes to support their new bodies..."

Cassie finished Sam's thought. "... and pretty soon the new bodies are right back at the point their previous bodies were at. So, they need a completely different environment. Hence Earth. A million interacting ecosystems ranging from microbes on the dust to blue whales in the ocean, lots of stuff to stress their bodies and keep them 'messy' and developing a healthy variety."

Jon pulled out from his glazed look. It was almost like being back in the Mountain listening to Sam chatter on about some alien doohickey.

"So we're going to help these aliens … fit in here on Earth?"

Jack laughed. "No, I'm not sure Earth is ready for that, and I'm completely sure the Asgard aren't ready for Earth's craziness. I've got a much better plan!"

Jack rubbed his palms together eagerly.

"We're gonna go settle a brand new planet with them!"

Jon knew his own expression was pure surprise and knew he fit right in with the others.

"Colonize an entirely new planet, sir?" Sam's 'sir' showed what a surprise it was for her too.

"Yes," said Sigyn. "We wish to colonize a new planet, away from the temptations to re-make the existing Asgard society. We have studied sociology, and realize that if we just try to avoid using technology easily at hand, we will fail. Therefore we need to stay with a society sufficiently removed from our existing technological base that we are forced to become, as General Carter said, 'messy.'"

Teal'c snorted. "Brother, I see some of your cunning at work."

Jack raised his hands with a look of innocence. "I swear I had no idea about the Asgard! I swear. But it fits well, doesn't it?"

"Fits what, Jack," Daniel complained. "I'm a sociologist among other things, and this has so many challenges that I can't even begin to list them! They are people used to having high tech, and throwing them back into a low tech world, one that is comparatively the Stone Age for them, is a recipe for disaster! Especially with largely unknown bodies."

Daniel turned to Sigyn, "You said hormones are so different that you couldn't even explain it to Thor. Guess what, you've just barely even brushed the surface of the effects your hormones are going to have on you! Just wait until you're pregnant!"

Jack and Sam laughed. Jon grinned too.

"This is serious," Daniel said. "They need to establish completely new social mores and structures. The interpersonal relationships alone are going to be enough to write a hundred papers as people who have never had sexual urges or interactions suddenly find themselves being attracted to each other and working their way toward - toward …"

Daniel faded off as he looked around at all the grins. Jon's felt like he was going to split his face. He couldn't hold it in any longer and exploded in laughter, triggering the others to join in.

Daniel looked around in embarrassment before he began to smile, a chuckle sneaking out.

"Well, anyway, there's lots of challenges."

Jack grinned at Daniel. "Then I'm glad you've volunteered."

"Volunteered?"

"Yup, volunteered to accompany them, of course, since you're so fascinated with it all."

"Accompany them … to settle a new planet?"

Jack nodded, still grinning. "It won't be just them, but they'll be part of it. Earth is about to spread out. We need people to lead the process."

He leaned forward. "This time was inevitable. Once the Stargate was found, our course was set. We would be introduced to the rest of the galaxy. Whether that was as slaves to Goa'uld or Aschen, or as a free people spreading out, it was going to happen.

"We've made it to the point where we're doing it as a free people, but there are still risks. One that keeps me up at night, especially over the last several years, is that businesses and governments lock down the spread and keeps it under tight control, focused on spreading bureaucracies or spreading the exploitation of natural resources. I've spent my life in the military, but in spite of the accusations of nearly every politician I've ever met, I don't think the military's culture is the best culture to spread.

"And, much to the dismay of every CEO and lobbyist I've ever met, I don't think that corporations should be the ones leading the spread."

Jack made a face.

"No, no. I'd prefer a spread that is based on exploration, discovery, and invention, preferably with lots of peaceful support and interactions with other groups out in the galaxy, like the Jaffa. Military and corporations need to go with the spread, but in my dream solution it will be people who have a passion for exploring the unknown because they love the path of discovery.

"I've been arranging for this subtly for years, though the constant conflicts with Goa'uld, Ori, and most recently the Aschen have gotten in the way. It's now come to a head, ready or not. The first few groups to go out are going to set the tone for all those to follow.

"The Asgard here give us the perfect opportunity to accomplish that goal while also helping the Asgard to survive, and as a people, we owe them our survival."

"No, Jack O'Neill," came a voice behind him. "It is the Asgard that owe you and Earth our survival."

Jon realized the other Asgard had gathered around the edge of the circle the SG people had formed. One of them was speaking. "You have saved the Asgard multiple times while risking yourself. We are asking for your support yet again. We are pleased that in helping us it enables you to solve other problems, but there is no debt or obligation Earth holds toward the Asgard."

Jon smiled. "Yet the Asgard have also saved Earth. When people have saved each other, there is no more counting of obligation in either direction. There is only the mutual debt which friends freely give to each other. Jack, do you an Teal'c remember how many times you have saved each other's lives?"

Both smiled at that and shook their heads.

"Dozens of times, each direction. The same is true of each of us here. We don't count up the number of times and figure out who owes who. We are friends, and friends freely and happily give the obligation to help each other.

"The Asgard are our friends, we owe you our help."

The Asgard quickly whispered to teach other as the first nodded slowly. He turned to Sigyn.

"Sigyn, I have been willing to follow this path, but it has always been with trepidation. I set my trepidations aside. This is truly the messiness of which General Carter spoke, and which I foolishly feared. It is a strength I am not sure I could explain, but it is a great strength."

He bowed slightly to her, and she smiled in return.

'_Teeth? On an Asgard? Weaners and boobs are one thing, but that smile and the teeth are weird!_'

"Jon," Jack exclaimed. "That was wonderfully stated! I'm glad to see my wisdom hasn't been lost on you. You'll do great!"

Jon screwed up his face. He'd stepped right into that.

To be honest, though, the idea of heading out into the galaxy with Asgard, Humans, maybe even Jaffa to discover new places?

Yeah, that sounded like fun!

The rest of the team jumped into a sudden discussion, and Jon was unsurprised to see Daniel make a beeline to the Asgard and begin talking with them animatedly.

Several of the Asgard came to him and began asking him about how he thought they would be able to help in a settlement. Jon saw Cassie talking with Sigyn and another Asgard, and shared a brief smile.

He overheard Vala animatedly telling one of the Asgard all about sex and how wonderful it was going to be. He nearly stepped in to interrupt but shrugged and let her go on telling all about the different mating rituals she knew of. Why not? Get messy!

A few minutes later, one of the Asgard speaking to Trisha suddenly cried out loudly in Asgardian. The effect on the others was electric, and they instantly dropped their conversations and gathered around Teal'c and Trisha.

"Huh?"

Jon looked at the others in sudden bewilderment.

"What did he say?"

Their expressions were as shocked and puzzled as his own.

The Asgard were silent, all staring at Trisha and Teal'c. Sigyn spoke, in English.

"Truly, you are with a child?"

Trisha was uncertain under the sudden and intense focus of every alien, but nodded, rubbing her tightly rounded belly.

"Yes. The child is a boy. He will be born in about three more months."

A soft exhalation went through the crowd of Asgard.

Slowly each Asgard approached Trisha and touched the top of her head and stepped aside.

Sigyn was the last and as she touched Trisha's head she slowly blinked.

"We wish you all good things for you, your mate, and your child. We give you our friendship and any assistance we may offer."

"Thank you," Trisha and Teal'c spoke together.

Sigyn turned to the rest of the humans and blinked her eyes slowly.

"I thank you all for your aid and your friendship. Already we see hope before us. We wish you well until we again meet."

The other Asgard nodded and blinked their assent. Several waved awkwardly.

And then they were gone in bursts of white light.

The humans and Jaffa all looked at each other, emotions playing across their faces at the future before them. Jon could see hope, uncertainty, excitement, wonder, and eagerness on their faces and knew he was sharing all those same feelings and thoughts.

Quietly they gathered together chairs together in a tight circle and sat together, each with their own thoughts, each sharing themselves with the others. Jon held Cassie close. He met Jack's eye and they nodded, thoughts flowing back and forth in wordless communication.

It was Vala who finally broke the silence.

"This."

She looked around at the others, a smile growing on her face.

"This is going to be so much fun!"

The laughter gave them release and they began talking. A small lull in the conversation let the group hear Sam and Trisha talking.

"... just glad we didn't announce while they were here!"

A collective intake of breath caught them all.

"Sam?"

Cassie's voice was carefully restrained.

"Did you, just say…?"

Sam looked up at Jack and bit her lip. His grin wide. Jon saw pride and happiness glowing like … like he remembered with Charlie.

She looked around to the others, an excited grin growing.

"Yeah, I did. That was our other big announcement for tonight."

Sam looked up at Jack with love evident even to the blind.

"We're having a baby."

Excitement and happiness filled Jon for them as the others jumped up to gather closer around Sam in cheerful congratulations.

Jack's eyes met his again and Jon grinned at the joy in his other version's face. "Congratulations," he mouthed.

"Thanks," Jack returned before pressing a kiss to the top of Sam's head.

It was nearly one in the morning before the party finally broke up, teleports wicking people back to their homes. Jack was taking full advantage of the extra two teleporation systems that had been set up since the Aschen had been stopped.

Jon and Cassie were the last to leave and Jon gave Sam a big hug and kissed the top of her head.

"Congratulations again, Carter. You two are going to be the most wonderful parents."

"Thanks, Jon," she whispered in return.

Cassie stepped in and shared another hug with Sam. Probably the hundredth for the night, Jon mused.

He turned to Jack and wrapped him in a hug.

"And congratulations to you, too, ya' old coot."

Jack smirked. "Not all _that_ old."

Jon laughed and shook his head. "Nope, I guess not all that old after all."

He wrapped Cassie in his arm and triggered his comm.

"Both of us home," he said.

That felt good to say, he realized.

"Good night, good night," he and Cassie waved, and then white light surrounded them, and they were just inside the door of his home.

Cassie turned into him and hugged him tightly, nestling her head into his chest as he wrapped his arms around her.

Happiness and contentment filled him

It suddenly dawned on him that it hadn't even occurred to him to feel anything other than pure happiness for Jack and Sam. No hangups. No regrets.

He hugged Cassie closer.

Definitely no regrets.

She leaned her head back and looked up at him.

"So, what do you think? Ready to go traipsing around the galaxy, helping a bunch of strange Asgard, clueless humans, and touchy Jaffa build a new home on a new planet? Help Earth spread and coexist with aliens after just barely surviving total annihilation from aliens? Get involved in a severe racial divide within the most powerful alien race in the galaxy? Teach hyper-advanced aliens how to work with their own hands - something they haven't done for longer than human civilization has been around?"

She smiled up at him. "Any other impossible problems I've overlooked?"

'_As long as I'm with you,_' came to Jon's thought.

The adventure she'd described sounded wonderful, but it paled if he'd have to leave her behind. He'd spent long years before the Stargate serving his country, but the time had been pulled from his family, then. After that, he'd spent nearly a decade stuffing his emotions into a box with Sam in the service of protecting Earth.

It was … he'd definitely do the Stargate part again if he had to. Looking back, he wasn't sure his black ops days were quite as righteous as he'd felt they were at the time, but with the Stargate, he had genuinely been protecting Earth and those he loved.

The cost, though. There had been so many times he'd been a hair's breadth from tossing away the Stargate and everything involved with it even though it was one of the most important things in the world. Literally.

Was he about to repeat his past? Could he do that? Working around the galaxy to build Earth's future? Coming back to Cassie after long absences? Was it worth it, or would he tell Jack to stuff it and stay with Cassie?

"Jon," Cassie spoke softly after he didn't reply. "It was just a rhetorical question. I know you'll do it and that you'll be able to handle everything the galaxy throws at you. I know you can do it."

Jon lowered his head and captured her lips with his own. He poured every ounce of love in his being into the kiss, delighting in her.

'_No, damn it. This time around I'm doing it differently. This time, I'm having my cake and eating it too._'

The decision was made. He wasn't sure how it would happen, but it _would_ happen.

"Cassie," he whispered as the kiss ended. "I love you."

"I love you too," she whispered back. "With my whole heart."

"I don't know how everything is going to work out, but I know where I'm going to start. You're my whole life, and everything I do from here on out is going to start from there."

Doubts flickered in his mind. He hadn't prepared. He wasn't sure how this was going to go. What if -

He shook his head slightly. No. He knew it needed to start here no matter what the future might bring.

Jon pulled back and grabbed her hands with his own.

Then he dropped to one knee.

"Cassie, I don't have a ring. I've known I was going to do this, but I was going to wait until things had slowed down. Until …" he broke off. "That doesn't matter. I'm not going to wait another minute."

He swallowed.

"Cassandra Frasier, will you marry me? Will you spend your life with me? Will you let me spend my life with you?"

Cassie's hands began to shake, and the pause seemed to stretch out into eternity as Jon looked up into her face, into her beautiful eyes that were shimmering in the soft lights.

"Yes," she choked out. "Oh my god, yes."

He voice strengthened. "Yes! Jon, I will!" She flung herself forward to wrap herself around him.

Jon squeezed her to himself, tears running down his cheeks.

"Yes," he murmured into her ear. "Yes, I can do all that stuff as long as it's with you. All of it, as long as I'm with you."

* * *

**So, this story has been a crazy ride for me.**

**It is my first story that I've actually ever finished. I've started a few odds and ends over the decades, but rarely get past a couple thousand words before life distracts me or my muse abandons me, or whatever.**

**This one was actually supposed to just be a half dozen chapters, only linked together by the life of Jon, but in the manner of a collection of vignettes. Obviously that lasted ... oh, two three or four chapters at most, and then it morphed into this big ol' sprawling adventure.**

**Now, I look back on this and I'm thankful that I didn't know where it was going at the beginning because I would have despaired - "There's no way I could possibly write that much and there's no way anyone would ever read something I wrote!"**

**Instead, I've been delighted and flattered and humbled and mystified by all of you readers who read this meandering bunch of words and apparently seem to enjoy it. Y'all need to have your heads examined, but I still get the warm and fuzzies at every comment, follow, and favorite.**

**I don't know if I'll do any more writing. The Muse hasn't whacked me again. But I'll encourage everyone else to definitely write even if you don't think it's going to be much. This story certainly shows that even a never-written-anything hack like me with just a couple little vignettes in mind might accidentally spew out a lot more than I ever could have imagined, and if I can do it, then absolutely ANYBODY can do it.**

**All my thanks and appreciation to all of you readers!**


	60. Epilogue

**Ok, so I lied. I did have an epilogue hanging around.**

**I know. You're all shocked that I lied.**

* * *

**One year later**

Jon swore as the massive creature reared up over him, wings spread wide, and mouth opening.

'_Crap! No room to - _'

Barely three feet across, the crack in the ancient, volcanic rock plain hemmed him in to either side with black, jagged stone. The walls of this crack were currently eight feet tall, and while he could climb them, it wasn't a quick thing to do, and the sharp edges would slice his fingers to the bone with a single slip.

It was a vicious environment, and the creatures which lived in it were a perfect match. This particular denizen was covered in scales that could handle the environment, had wings, was bigger than an elephant, and, of most concern to Jon at the immediate moment, was able to breath "fire".

Jon dove backwards and swung his shield around in front of himself, curling up his legs to get as much of his body behind the shield as possible before the -

A stream of blue flame shot out from the dragon's mouth, unerringly aimed at Jon.

The shield intercepted the stream and then Jon was rolling backwards over his shoulder and backpack, out of the path of the stream of burning cesium.

Jon rolled to his feet, carefully keeping the burning side of the shield away from his body. Several gunshot sounded off from the side and the dragon snapped its head around to the side and roared. Jon took the opportunity to move away from its sight, darting back twenty feet around a bend to a place where part of the wall of the crack had broken down, and quickly climbed out. Several more shot rang out, and the creature lost its interest in Jon and turned to the new annoyance, running across the jagged lava with short, wing-assisted jumps to cross the larger crevices.

Stealth wasn't an option any more, and Jon sprinted along the glassy surface of the obsidian-like field. He prayed he was in time. The new Asgard were tough, but the dragons had evolved to live in some of the harshest environment Jon had ever experienced.

This dragon was a newcomer to the local area, and a full adult, though still short of the truly massive size some of the oldest dragons achieved with lengths of nearly fifteen meters. This one was closer to ten meters, and covered in titanium-laced scales that let it slither along razor-sharp obsidian without worry.

And happened to shrug off most bullets.

And the damned things seemed to like the scent of Asgardians.

That had most definitely not been known when they had selected this planet for one of the colonies. The dragons had disliked humans for some reason, and had been categorized as a minor threat similar to a rhinoceros on Earth - not something you wanted to hang around or annoy, but not a major threat. And then the Asgard had come with the nearly two thousand humans, and the local dragons had gone crazy with excitement.

Jon heard another round of gunfire as he ran along the edge of the crack he had been sneaking down minutes before. The signs of the dragon were relatively clear even after just a few days - scrapes from scales and claws were evident around the edges.

"Sigyn!"

Jon slowed and began peering down into the large crack. It had expanded to nearly fifteen feet deep and perhaps twenty feet across. Enough dust and rubble had collected that there was an actual floor of dirt to the crack. It was freshly ripped and torn up from the dragon's new residence.

And there, mixed in the dirt, was the dark red of blood.

"Sigyn!"

Gunshots continued to sound behind him, and then the distinctive sound of a staff weapon sounded. A bit of relief flowed through him.

'_The cavalry has arrived!_'

Staff blasts were able to hurt the dragons even through their incredibly tough scales. Rak'en had accompanied Jon and Drew to search this area, while two other teams were searching a quarter mile on either side of them. Staff blasts weren't an instant kill to the massive creatures, but they hurt them enough to eventually drive them off or even kill them.

Jon triggered his radio. "We've found and engaged the dragon. I've found some blood in a crevice here. Setting off a flare. Support Drew and Rak'en with the dragon. I'm investigating the crevice."

He released his backpack and pulled out his climbing equipment. Pitons got hammered into the volcanic rock, and chains looped around. Jon glanced back at the battle going on between the dragon and his men. The black creature was currently circling running across the volcanic rocks, wing outstretched for balance and to aid in jumping the numerous cracks.

Rak'en was facing it down, sending blast after blast of superheated plasma at the beast. Jon couldn't see Drew, but he heard a steady stream of gunfire. Even a staff weapon didn't immediately kill the dragons - the scales were too tough and the creatures too large for that - but they did hurt it. Thirty feet short of Rak'en, the creature had enough and veered aside, diving into a crevice with a scraping that Jon could hear from over a hundred meters away.

He returned his focus to setting up his chains, confident Rak'en and Drew could handle themselves. They could even just play keep-away from the dragon until the others arrived. Jon had assigned a Jaffa to accompany each group for some heavy weapon support. A single staff weapon was like using a .270 rifle against a rhino - enough shots and you'll take it down, but three staff weapons with a half dozen MP5s all with armor piercing rounds would take even an adult dragon down in pretty short order. His job at the moment was to see about rescuing the snatched Asgard, or if the worst came to be, recover her remains.

That it was Sigyn, to whom he owed Cassie's life, twisted his gut even further.

With a final click he threw the chain over the edge and shrugged his backpack back on before sliding down the hardened steel chain. Ropes were nearly useless out on the obsidian fields.

Jon hit the bottom and unlatched. The obsidian walls stretched around him with the dirt and rocks providing enough loose material for a few tufts of weeds to grow. As he turned, it became evident where the dragon's lair was located - as the lava that made these fields flowed, the surface had cooled quickly, but the lava below took longer to solidify, occasionally leaving pools of lava that managed to drain away through some opening. The result was a cave.

Jon crossed to the dark hole at the base of the obsidian wall and flicked on a light. It was large enough that his light didn't expose the other side, but it wasn't a particularly powerful light either. It did show a rough ramp of broken stone leading down.

And blood.

Jon knelt and touched the blood. It was dried, but unweathered. A little further in, enough blood had gathered to make a droplet that smeared as Jon pinched it.

Fresh.

A staff blast and burst of gunfire sounded above him, muted to his ears down in the crevice. The dragon was occupied.

Jon shone the light on the stones and slowly worked his way down into the blackness. It was another fifteen feet before he reached the floor and the light streaming in through the hole was quickly swallowed by the black rock. His light just barely gave him the hints of edges to the cavern - at least fifty feet across at this point, and it stretched beyond his light to either side.

"Less of a cave, and more of a river that emptied out," Jon muttered.

"Sigyn!"

The echoes sent his voice bouncing around through the cave, but before they faded, a cry answered him from his right.

"Jon! There is a mate!"

His heart rate soared at the warning and he spun around looking for motion in the darkness. Facing a dragon out on the surface was dangerous enough - caught with one in a cave without weapons was the next thing to suicide.

If he hadn't been looking for it, he might have missed it as black shifted against black in the distance.

'_Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shi-_'

Jon scrambled for his MP5, releasing it from its clips, popping the flashlight onto its attachment point, and yanking the weapon to his shoulder.

The blackness of the cave seemed to be writhing to his adjusting eyes, but Jon held his fire.

"Sigyn! Can you move?"

A glint of yellow light reflected deep in the blackness.

Jon fired a burst and a roar answered. Jon flexed, ready to spring to dodge the impending charge, but it never came.

"Slowly," came Sigyn's answer from the inky darkness.

"I'll try to draw it away. You make for the entrance."

"I shall try."

Jon winced at the uncertainty of the statement. Asgard bodies were ridiculously tough and resilient. If Sigyn were so badly wounded that she could only try to go to the entrance, she was in bad shape. The echoes ruined his ability to get a sense of her state from her voice, but the Asgard were very precise in their words - if she was capable of moving, there would have been no "try."

The blackness writhed again and Jon put a single shot into the center area. A loud hiss answered him and the dragon finally came close enough that he was able to see more than a vague shape. A long, black neck came from the darkness with a yellow eye clearly reflecting back the light of his flashlight.

Jon let loose a short burst this time and this time the dragon ducked and charged forward with a roar. Jon spun and began scrambling up the rocks, ignoring the razor sharp rocks cutting at his hands as the ground shook with the creature's charge. Jon nearly flew from the opening and sprinted forward.

On the ground the weren't much faster than a person. It wasn't until they got into the air that they could strike like a black thunderbolt.

The dragon roared again behind him and Jon risked a glance backwards to see it coming up out of the hole like a serpent. The females were longer and slimmer than the males. It seemed to be hesitating to leave its hole and Jon stopped and turned back, letting loose a burst at the dragon. Steel jacket bullets wouldn't punch through the thickest scales covering their stomachs and chests, but they might wound the more lightly armored necks. Wouldn't cause serious wounds, but it would hurt at least a little.

The pain and Jon's approach was enough to pull the dragon the rest of the way out, and Jon resumed his run. He ran past his chain - too long to climb before the dragon arrived - and continued running up the crevice. After a hundred feet the female dragon stopped again and swung her head back and forth from the annoying enemy back to the cave.

There was a collapse of the wall, and Jon took the moment to climb up to the surface. He gave the dragon another burst of gunfire but it still hesitated. It was just out of sight of the cave opening, and Jon wanted to keep it that way to give Sigyn enough time to get out.

Staff blasts and gunfire echoed behind him, reminding him of the battle still going on. Jon ran toward the dragon yelling.

"Hey come and get me! Nice and juicey Jon-burger here! Come on ya' stupid lizard! So tasty!"

The dragon's head was above the level of the obsidian crevice, but still didn't come at him.

'_What's it gonna take to get ya' to chase me? What is keeping you … oh._' The precise word of Sigyn came to Jon's mind: "mate." If she hadn't been certain of its relationship to the first dragon, she would have said something along the lines of "another dragon," but she had used the word "mate." She had been certain of its status because of …

"Baby dragons."

That fit with the dragon's behavior of snatching Sigyn and taking her far away rather than trying to eat the Asgardian immediately.

Jon shifted and began running toward the cave entrance.

That triggered the female dragon, and it surged up over the top with a roar.

"Oh shit! Yup - momma dragon!"

Jon skidded to a halt and ran back.

It unfurled its wings and gave itself a quick flap as it began to run. With its wings to help, it could match a dog's speed, and Jon could feel the earth shaking again as he sprinted all out with ten tons of angry momma dragon following close behind.

The black rock blurred beneath his boots as he ran. A quick glance showed that it was less than fifty feet behind him and Jon found an extra burst of speed at the site of ten tons of claws and teeth bearing down. He turned slightly and sprinted as hard as he could toward another crack in the lava and leaped it. This was only a "tributary" crack to the main crevice the dragons lived in, but it was still nearly ten feet across. Jon shoved off the edge of the crack and for a brief second was weightless as he soared over the expanse.

Then he landed on the other side and fell forward, rolling over his backpack. The thought flickered through his mind that he was glad he didn't have fifteen pounds of chain and pitons still in the pack.

The dragon's teeth snapped barely a foot behind him and Jon rolled again before rolling to his feet and sprinting again.

The crack seemed to be a barrier that the dragon was satisfied to have as a barrier between her and Jon, and she roared again as he continued running but declined to continue chasing him.

Jon stopped and turned to look at the dragon, sucking in great lungfuls of air.

The dragon watched him as he panted, hands on knees, but Jon didn't begin approaching again, and it didn't seem interested in chasing him further. Jon began to hope that it would keep an eye on him long enough for Sigyn to fully escape. He couldn't check on her to see if she had actually been able to crawl out, but if he could give enough time….

A burst of staff fire sounded in the distance and the dragon picked its head up at the sound. The male dragon gave a roar and further gunfire and staff fire began to sound. Jon glanced over as well and saw the dragon, nearly a quarter mile away by this point, jump through the air toward something Jon couldn't see.

The female dragon, alarmed by the sounds of violence in the distance, spun and began running back toward her cave and young. Jon cursed and began chasing the dragon.

'_Chasing a dragon?_' The ridiculous act made Jon smile. '_Cassie's gonna kill me if I die after chasing a dragon on my own with just a gun._'

He pulled his gun loose and fired after the dragon, but any pain it felt didn't seem to change its mind from returning to its cave.

Jon dropped his backpack and with a running start managed to cover the ten foot gap he had cleared with room to spare just minutes before. Winded from his sprint, Jon quickly fell behind the running dragon.

'_Come on Sigyn, I hope you're well out of there!_'

The dragon was nearly back to its home crevice when it slowed to a stop and swung its head back and forth. Jon was two football fields back and running to catch up, and couldn't see what had slowed it. It swung back and forth twice and then spread its wings and with a flap-supported jump, cleared the twenty foot gap of the crevice and began running back away from its cave, but on the other side of the large crevice from Jon.

A second later Jon realized what had attracted the dragon when a figure broke from behind an upthrust of rock and began limping away. Sigyn.

Something about the scent of the Asgard seemed to attract the dragons. It was catnip dipped in crack to them.

Jon cursed and dropped to his knees, pulling the MP5 up to his cheek and switching the selector to single fire. There was no way he'd be able to catch up to it himself.

He took a valuable second to track his heartbeat and breathing, match its timing to his shots, and began squeezing off shot after shot.

The beast's head was relatively stable as it ran and Jon's first and second shot missed, but his third one hit the back of its neck near the base of its skull. He noted the spark and zero'd in on his retreating target and continued firing. Spark after spark noted where each bullet hit.

The dragon jerked and snapped at the air; while it slowed a little, it didn't otherwise shift from its goal. It was only fifty feet from Sigyn when Jon's clip ran empty.

"Fuck!"

He dropped the magazine and started running even as he grabbed at his belt for his spare. He couldn't jump the crevice at this point and he was forced to sprint parallel to the dragon's path back up the crevice until it would eventually become narrow enough to jump.

It would be far too late by then, but he wasn't about to give up.

A strange cry sounded from the dragon's direction and Jon glanced up from his run in time to see a small figure flying through the air, swinging a stick or something at the dragon. The figure's club met the dragon's neck and sent the multi-ton creature rolling to the side.

Jon redoubled his speed and slammed the fresh clip into his gun. If he could get close enough, there was a chance he'd be able to put some bullets through the thing's eyes. As long as whoever that was managed to keep the dragon busy until Jon could get there!

The dragon roared and scrambled to its feet and spun to meet its new adversary. Jon was a hundred and fifty meters away, but it was close enough to make out the newcomer when the dragon moved aside.

An Asgard?

'_What the hell? Asgard don't -_'

But this Asgard didn't seem to know what Asgard didn't do, because it hefted what Jon could now tell was a massive hammer and charged at the dragon, bellowing a warbling yell as it went.

The dragon roared in reply and charged its new foe.

Jon saw the small figure jump into the air, a ludicrously long and high jump reaching high enough that the dragon's head tilted up as its jaws opened to snatch its prey from the air.

Instead of Asgard flesh, it was met by the massive sledgehammer.

The figure swung the huge sledgehammer straight down onto the dragon's snout. The dragon's head slammed down to the ground with a crash. Its forward momentum left it sliding forward, and the Asgard figure landed on the back of the dragon.

The dragon didn't turn to bite for its enemy, but it did roll and twist. The Asgard leaped off and landed in a crouch thirty feet away.

"Damn," Jon huffed as he ran. "They built their bodies tough, but - " Huff, huff. "Damn."

The Asgard had built themselves some pretty kick-ass bodies in a lot of ways - tougher and stronger than humans. They were still Asgard, though, and physical violence wasn't anything they had even the slightest interest in doing. In any way, shape, or form.

Or at least, that was what everyone thought.

Jon was even with the combatants but still separated by the main crevice. The Asgard and the dragon were circling each other, now. The dragon hissing but not snapping its jaws and Jon hoped the Asgard's blow had broken something. The Asgard was slowly circling, his hammer held at the ready.

Jon realized the hammer was on a handle that had to be four feet long, at least, and the hammer head was as big as the Asgard's head.

Jon desperately looked ahead for the crevice to narrow without luck, but one of the periodic collapses had happened on his side of the crevice and he spotted another wall collapse a hundred feet further on the opposite side.

"That'll do," he panted, and arrowed for the broken stone. Obsidian, or at least this alien version of it, tended to break into very sharp edges, and Jon was forced to slow on his way down. Just before he lost sight of the dragon, he saw it dart forward and the Asgard suddenly swing the massive hammer around in a blur that caught the dragon a glancing blow as it pulled away.

Jon jumped the last eight feet and ran up the crevice toward the next collapsed area. The Asgard's warcry filled the air again and a second later Jon heard an impact as the hammer met dragon. The titanium-laced scales clanged almost like an anvil and a second later a second clash was audible to Jon.

He reached the second rock collapse and began climbing up as sounds of a fully-joined battle resounded. The deep roars of the dragon mixed with the shouts of the Asgard and the resounding clang of hammer meeting scales.

Jon rolled up over the edge and started running back toward the fighters.

The fighters had closed and the Asgard was within the reach of the dragon's claws. The hammer was a blur as it smashed again and again against the massive beast's armored hide. The dragon spun and clawed at the Asgard, only to be met with a swing of the hammer against the claws. A couple hundred kilos of mass in the dragon's foreclaws backed by ten tons of body weight, though, was enough to knock back the Asgard even as the hammer strike knocked the claws aside.

The Asgard was sent sprawling backwards across the sharp rocks and Jon winced as he saw it. The Asgard never had gotten the hang of clothing, though they had adopted boots when traveling longer distances. The Asgard skin was more like a tough leather than human skin, but the sharp obsidian rocks would still slice their skin.

The Asgard didn't seem to notice, though, and rolled to his feet and charged back toward the dragon.

It reared upward and came down with both forehands at its small target. The Asgard leaped aside and swung the hammer again, smacking the side of the dragon's forearm and using the collision to send himself even further off to the side.

Jon was a hundred feet away and he sprayed a few shots the dragon's way as soon as the Asgard disappeared on the other side of the beast's bulk.

Whether he had actually hit it or not he didn't know, but the sound seemed to catch the dragon's attention, and it swung its head to look at the new threat. The dragons were cunning predators and it recognized him, Jon was certain, and remembered at least the smaller pains he had caused it.

It hissed for a second, and then it was suddenly knocked to its side toward Jon as the Asgard used the distraction to deliver a blow Jon wouldn't have imagined was possible. The ten ton creature was knocked upwards and sideways off its feet, landing with a crash.

The dragon's recovery was slower this time. It swiped with all four of its legs at the Asgard on the other side from Jon, and Jon could hear several clangs and scrapes as its claws were blocked with the hammer.

It managed to scramble to its feet as Jon reached it, skidding to a halt less than ten feet from its head.

"Hey!"

Its head swung his way at his shout and he pulled the trigger. At full auto, the gun would empty the clip in three seconds and was not particularly accurate, but at ten feet Jon powered down on the rising gun and kept the stream of bullets focused on its head.

Its scales were much finer here, almost non-existent at the underside of the base of its jaw, and the jacketed bullets punched through the lighter armor with sprays of sparks. Blood sprayed as the head, larger than Jon himself, jerked away at the sudden pain.

Jon caught a brief glimpse of the Asgard jumping into the air, impossibly high, and then his gun clicked to empty, the bolt locking back.

The dragon snapped its jaws back down at Jon and he jumped back. It was a reflexive move, though, and the dragon's bite was off-target. Jon had noticed the eye on his side of the dragon burst halfway through his gunfire.

And before the dragon could move again, the Asgard fell from the sky like a grey meteor, his hammer a silver blur as it struck the dragon's head from above.

The air rung with the clang of metal on metal. The dragon's head was slammed down to the ground with a mighty crash.

The Asgard seemed to hang for a second as every bit of his downward motion was directed into the strike, and then gravity seemed to remember him, and he dropped to the ground in a crouch, ready to move if the dragon renewed its fight.

Jon kept an eye on the dragon's head between them, but it was motionless - the top of its head visibly crushed deeply inward by the strike.

The Asgard gazed across at Jon, his large black eyes slowly closing in a deliberate blink. Jon didn't recognize the Asgard before him. There were just twenty four of them here on Lokahi, and Jon was pretty sure they were the only colony that had Asgard with them.

"Thank you Jon O'Neill."

The voice was deeper than he remembered, but it had a familiar tone.

"Thor? When -? What -?"

The unexpected sight of his friend in an unexpected body doing things Asgardians just didn't do left Jon with more confusion than he could process.

"You have joined us?" It was Sigyn, limping up from where she had taken refuge during the battle.

Jon jumped to reach her, his surprise to see Thor in a new Asgardian body pushed back by the immediate need in front of him. Sigyn was coated in blood nearly from the top of her bulbous head to her feet. Strips of flesh hung from her body, deep gashes and punctures showed where massive claws and fangs had seized her, and her right leg was a mangled mess that Jon couldn't figure out how she was getting to move, much less support herself for her limping pace.

"Sigyn, sit down. We will get transport to get you back to the hospital. Just stay still so you don't get hurt further."

Though she slowly sat, her gaze never left Thor.

Thor dropped his hammer and stepped across to Sigyn and knelt beside her, fingers darting to a belt Jon hadn't noticed, it so closely matched his skin color. He pulled out a small device and fitted it to his hand.

"I have," Thor stated calmly. "I have set aside my duties as the leader of the Asgard and have come to join you."

White light began to glow from the device and for a long minute, Thor moved it from spot to spot over her body. Jon couldn't see any difference, but if it were healing just the most vital wounds, he might not see anything on the surface. He noted it did seem to be focusing on areas around the deepest puncture wounds.

He finally pulled his hand back and the glow disappeared.

"I have seen the wisdom and necessity of your path, and if I am permitted, I would join you."

Sigyn stared for a long moment before slowly blinking and Thor relaxed fractionally.

Jon smiled.

Thor turned his gaze up to Jon. "I have other news for you. Jack O'Neill and Samantha Carter have arrived. They bring their child with them."

Jon's smile turned into a huge grin.

"Today's a good day, after all! We saved the girl, the hero is joining our group, and friends are arriving! Only thing that could make it better is some cake!"

Thor's mouth slowly turned up at the corner.

"I believe Jack O'Neill has brought cake."

The ocean's waves lapped in the darkness while the light of the bonfire spread its warmth on the beach and the seven figures around it. Further down the beach, there was a party going on with much laughing and music, but this fire had a quieter group around it, though smiles and chuckles graced each of the people surrounding it.

Vala lay sprawled across a hammock with her feet on Daniel's lap as he rubbed her feet, slowly swaying back and forth.

Jack was leaned back against a tree, his arms and legs wrapped around Sam who sat back against his chest. A basket was on the sand next to them and in it a little girl with fine, blond curls lay in a nest of blankets, sleeping soundly, exhausted after playing with all the wonderful friends who seemed to be willing to coo and bounce and tickle her as much as she wanted. A tiny smile quirked at the side of her mouth as she slept.

Jon sat back against a snail shell nearly four feet tall, and mirrored Jack's position, wrapping Cassie in his arms. He had some cuts and a few stitches, but nothing truly serious. He hugged Cassie tighter. It had been a close thing. He nuzzled her hair, breathing in her scent.

Jack was catching them up on events back on Earth and around the galaxy.

" - so with the Jaffa stable and consolidated to an official set of planets and a governing body that seems to be popular, we have official channels that seem to keep things running smoothly. It's been getting downright dull.

He glanced over at his child sleeping peacefully and hugged Sam tighter.

"Well, work is dull. Everything else is better than ever."

Jon smiled as he recognized the deep satisfaction in Jack's tone. Even the words expressing his peace and pleasure were part of it. Truth be told, this was the goal of their lives - to protect and make sure their loved ones were happy.

"So that means when Thor beamed down into my office three weeks ago and asked me to allow him to join your colony, here." Jack shrugged. "I said of course, but he seemed nervous and insisted that he would need to seek permission from the other Asgard here. He was even delaying things on purpose, dragging his feet on finally coming. Kept coming up with stuff he said he needed to handle, but he just sat and paced for days."

Jack snorted. "I've never seen the little guy truly nervous like that."

Cassie was relaxed, but Jon could all but hear her thinking. "I suspect he's experiencing a range of emotions entirely outside his experience. We know that the Asgard didn't have emotional hormones. Even adrenaline-analogues. Humans are wildly driven by our hormones."

Jon grinned and somehow Cassie knew it. She thumped her head back against his chest. "Especially this one. Nearly every major emotion we have is related to hormones in some way. I don't know whether the Asgard never had those sorts of hormones or if they got rid of them somewhere along the way, but if they didn't have them and now they do, it's, it's," Cassie cast about for the words. "It's like a human suddenly going on a PCP trip. Maybe not quite that extreme, but close."

"Honestly, I've been amazed at how steady they are. Don't get me wrong, they're really weird - 'aliens are alien' and all that - but they're also wildly considerate of other beings. We've had to deal with a few instances of people taking advantage of the Asgard's willingness to help and defer to others, and we've slowly gotten them to realize that they don't have to do everything that's asked of them, but that's their general approach to interacting with others."

"Except for Thor, apparently," Jon said. "Damn, but he went up against a dragon all by himself with nothing but that big-assed hammer, and he was beating the snot out of it. I distracted it for him a bit, but that's really all I can claim. And that giant hammer - where'd he get that?"

"That's from me," Jack said. "I didn't expect it to be a real weapon, though. I saw it at a Ren Faire we went to while Thor was dragging his feet. I convinced the guy to sell it to me, and gave it to Thor, more as a joke than anything, but he took it seriously. Spent the next several days studying everything related to Norse mythology and the Thor comic books. Which is sort of weird, since it was based on the Asgard themselves in the first place. He even took it back to his ship and did his sciency stuff to it, so for all I know no one but Thor can lift it, like in the comics."

Jon laughed at the image of the real Thor modeling himself over the comic book Thor.

"Blew my mind, I'll tell you that," Jon said. "These Asgard are the gentlest beings I know, maybe next to the Nox, and then Thor came along and started laying into that dragon like he was a real life Thor of mythology."

Jon shook his head. "You guys read some of our reports on the Asgard?"

Sam nodded, but Jack shook his head. "I made it through two of yours, Danny, and gave up. I'm sure their nascent artwork is really important, but your paper on its clues to their origins and its future impact on their budding culture puts little Janet here to sleep." He reached out to touch the little basket.

"You'd better be careful Jack," Daniel returned with a lazy grin. "'Nascent?' That was almost a big word. I'm gonna corrupt you."

"Don't worry," Jack returned. "I toss 'em all into the shredder as soon as they hit my desk, now."

Sam slapped his leg. "Liar." She grinned at Daniel. "He has them set aside and he reads them to Janet to put her to sleep. Then he usually finishes it himself."

Jack muttered something Jon thought might have been "traitor" and kissed the top of Sam's head.

"Ok, so you know they did some pretty weird things when they designed their bodies," Jon continued his earlier point. "They seemed to have some pretty overblown ideas of how dangerous 'wild' environments are. So, they are three or four times as strong as humans, their skin is like a leather, their nervous system is faster than ours, their digestion systems are a mix between a nuclear reactor and a mad scientist's dream - "

Cassie interrupted with excitement. "Their digestive systems break down almost everything to nearly its constituent atoms and rebuilds the nutrients they need! It's ama-mph gugmph."

"Yes, my love," Jon said with his hand over her mouth. "Sam has read the papers, and Jack won't understand your explanation."

Jack stuck his tongue out at Jon, and Jon returned the favor.

"Anyway," Jon said, uncovering Cassie's mouth to release the giggles coming out. "The short and tall of it is that they could be super-soldiers extraordinaire if they wanted. Thor gave a great example of what they could be like. It's a very, very good thing that they're taking the peaceful route."

"Their reaction to advanced technology is fascinating too," Daniel jumped in. "Give one the option between using a rock to pound in a nail, and a hammer, and nine out of ten times they'll go for the rock. Literally. I've seen them spend hours using rocks to chips away at each other to form a hammer when there's an entire toolbox nearby. The tools they make, though, are pieces of art all by themselves! They usually don't let that behavior disrupt things that are urgent, but, well they seem to have a purposeful aversion to technology even while they casually use subspace communicators and advanced healing tools.

"It took them nearly a week to decide whether they wanted to live in caves, like literal cavemen, or build their own housing. They finally decided on housing, but I'm pretty sure that they chose that because it was more work! They are incredibly deliberate about every choice, and they've made the decision to do without advanced technology for any sort of comfort purposes. They're sticking to their decision to deliberately live like primitives!"

Vala stretched out and stroked her foot down and up Daniel's thigh.

"They aren't deliberate about _everything_ though."

Jon could feel a blush working up his neck and he buried his nose in his wife's hair.

"What's this," Jack asked. "I don't remember anything particularly _interesting_ coming through in reports."

Jon mentally cursed his older version. He had an instinct on how to poke a bit of fun, and yeah, he was going to find this hilarious. He hadn't had to live through it, though!

Daniel coughed. "Yes, well, I'm still writing the paper about it. I keep getting distracted, though." He turned to glare at Vala, and she bit her lip and waggled her eyebrows at him with a grin.

'_Ok, she lived through it and loved every second of it. How she ever convinced Daniel to do that out on their front yard I'll never know! And Cassie said she saw them on a roof in town!_'

"Come on, give," Jack chortled. He glanced over at Jon and Jon knew that Jack was somehow seeing his blush, even in the darkness.

"Well, they, don't have any, um, sexual, um, taboos," Daniel began, slowly. "They don't wear any clothes even with, um, clearly evident, um, and functional, uh, sexualorgans."

Jack laughed loudly and Sam smacked him, glancing at their baby girl, but she was giggling too.

Daniel cleared his throat. "Yes, so no cultural inhibitions when it comes to um, reproduction."

Jack was trying to hold in his laughter, but failing miserably. "So, you've got Asgard randomly deciding to, to" Jack choked, trying to hold in the laughter. "To have, hehe, sex, ha! In the middle of the, the street?" Jack was rolling back and forth as he held Sam and tried to smother his laughs into her hair. Sam was biting her lip trying to hold in similar laughs.

"No," Daniel bemoaned. "That wouldn't be too bad. We could ask them to move indoors or at least out of sight, and I'm sure they'd be happy to do so, if that were the case."

Jack's giggles weren't letting up, but Sam's curiosity let her suppress her laughter long enough to ask what the problem was then.

Cassie answered as Daniel's face turned even more red.

"Well, they decided to emphasize the 'messy' part of genetic sharing. They built into themselves an estrus cycle. For both males and females."

Sam gasped and Jack looked confused.

Jon took over the story. "Yeah, you know, estrus, dogs go 'in heat.' They set that up for themselves. Male and female. Synced up with each other to trigger. They were apparently taking some hormones to suppress, um, going into heat, until they felt they were in a stable situation."

Jon felt his cheeks burn again. "So, they stopped taking their suppression pills about two months ago."

Jack goggled at him. "So, they … what, can't help themselves? In the streets whenever they meet?"

Jon winced. "Yeah. I think they overdid the strength of the, um, urges. They do it, um, loudly, and um, publicly, and yeah, it really takes over their minds. Can't think of anything else."

It was Sam's turn to giggle and now Jack was getting a slow flush.

Vala snorted. "They screwed, fucked, sucked, pounded, banged, boinked, bonked, boffed, licked, and bumped uglies all over the city. They chased each other up and down the streets. Two-somes, three-somes, four-somes, five-somes. At one point in the town center, they were in a great big pile, all twenty-four of them, squirming and doing it all."

Vala grinned broadly at the combination of blushes, shock, and Sam's giggles.

"I'm not sure there's a surface in the entire city that didn't have an Asgard doing the messy on it at some point! Super strong. Super stamina. And the males - they really, _really_ grow larger and the women, their boobs probably double in size!"

Sam was now the one rolling on her side in laughter, trying to not wake the baby, holding her stomach while Jack looked on in shock.

"Asgard? Sex?" His voice croaked.

"Yup," Vala cheerful confirmed. "And it lasted for an entire week! "The entire city went into shock the first couple days, but after that, quite a few people decided that if you can't beat 'em, join 'em! Didn't we Daniel!"

Daniel curled up and put his hands over his face.

"And this happens every month?" Jack gasped.

Jon shook his head, and cleared his throat. "No. After they got over it, we asked, and they said they set it up to happen once a year."

"Oh God," Jack groaned.

"It gets better," Jon said. "There are already plans for next year."

"Jack, Ja - " Sam gasped between her gales of laughter. "Sa-save up you - your vacation time! We're coming to - to visit!"

Cassie giggled. "Janet's gonna wind up with a little brother or sister! In fact, there's almost certainly going to be a baby boom here in about seven months from now."

'_Jack certainly shifted from shocked to happy really quickly,_' Jon thought with amusement.

Cassie looked up at him with a questioning look. Jon felt his heart melt as he looked down at his wife. They'd been quickly married before the colony had gone through the Stargate to this new world they'd christened Lokahi. A year later he was happier than he ever could have imagined.

He leaned his head down and caught her lips with his. Ten thousand times, and it still sent a thrill through him as her soft lips met his own.

When the finally parted, Jon smiled and nodded.

He looked up at the others.

"So, it just so happens that, well, we'll be contributing to that baby boom in seven months."

Congratulations quickly rang out and he met Jack's eyes. His own eyes. But he was fine with that. He, Jon O'Neill, had a perfect life, and if he shared some of that life with others, that was a good thing.

He hugged his wife and unborn child to himself.

Yes, sharing life with those he loved was a very good thing.

Even if he had the chance to do it all over again, he wouldn't change a thing.


End file.
